What Does Being Legal Have to Do With It?

Ariana POV

Wow, this bench is really uncomfortable. Even the pillow that smelled like hair grease and drool and the blanket, covered with stains of a substance I couldn't figure out, didn't help it. I fidgeted a little bit, trying to make myself comfortable. I couldn't sleep, I barely blinked, There were too many things going through my mind. I just turned on my iPod.

Somebody kill me. Slice my neck. Somebody show me some fucking respect! Iinstead of all this violence cause I'm angry I need silence fuck me up spill my guts someone teach me to trust. I'm high and drunk. Faded as fuck. Staring down barrels I'm looking for love...

My listening was interrupted by someone whispering my name. I looked to my left, and waved to Gerard.

"Sorry, was my iPod too loud?" I whispered.

"No, you look really uncomfortable. You want to come over here?" he asked me.

I felt my face heat up.

"No, I'm fine here. Please, don't worry about me."

"I feel really bad after all you have been through and then shoving you on a bench with a nasty ass pillow, and a dirty cover on your first night."

"I feel no pain or disgust. "

"Come over here."

I gave up and sat on his bed, trying not to hit my head on the bed above, because of my fear of the filth on top of it falling on me.

"No. Lay down, your not sleeping on the bench."

I wanted to complain, but all of a sudden I felt tired on a soft bed. I lied down, even though I was wearing my day clothes, and I was getting kind of hot. Gerard moved over a bit, and I turned to look at him.

"So what were you listening to?"

"Music."

"Oh, that sounds intresting. Can I hear?"

I took one bud out of my ear and put in his. I just clicked the shuffle button and waited for what song would come up.

If you relish me my time will be a ticking clock and crush me like I crush these rocks until my fucking heart is stopped. And suck me in euphoric to the touch I want some more of it the rush is not enough cause you don't love me like the first time that we fucked. And now I'm on the carpet trying to pick you up and huff you up. You fucked me up and now I'm stuck all doors are shut! Pressures rising close me eyes I'm lost in my own paradise..

I was so embarrased, I don't normally let people know that I listen to songs like this. God what did he think of me now?

"I like it." he whispered.

"What?"

"I like it, the lyrics are very upfront."

I layed there for a moment. He gave he a smile that I saw form in the dark. My heart fluttered a bit. He held my hand. I smiled back.

"If you don't mind me saying, you are very pretty." he said.

I almost passed out. No one ever calls me pretty. My mother told me that I was ugly and good for nothing, and it would be amazing if a man ever looked twice at me, and now the man that millions of fangirls (and some boys) loved to death, was telling me that I was pretty. I felt my eyes water up. No, I wasn't going to cry. Instead I just studdered.

"Thank you."

I felt a tear stream down my face. I could tell that if I opened my mouth, I was going to break down crying. I sniffed to hold back tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"I just... I'm hurt." was all I thought I could say.

All I thought that I could say.

All of a sudden, I just blurted out my life story.

"When I was born, both my mother had really bad heroin addictions. When I was two, I was shipped off to go live with my Aunt Teri. When I was three, someone tried to carjack my Aunt and shot her in the head. She died instantly. It was one of my first traumatic moments in my life. I would spend most of my time that I spent with my mother trying to play with her but she was always too doped up. I didn't understand it when I was little, so sometimes I would buy the heroin for her, she told me it was grown up sugar. By the time I was eight, she stopped her addiction and went fucking insane, instead of being addicted to heroin, she got addicted to hitting me, it got worse every time, she abused me verbally, mentally, and physically. I barely talk to anybody at my school, and I don't tell anyone because I'm scared. My mother has made me feel like dirt. No one has ever told me I was pretty. I'm worthless."

I broke into tears and Gerard held me close to him. I buried my face in his chest. He shushed me, like someone does when they sooth a crying child. He kissed my cheek and wiped a tear from my eye. He kissed my cheek again and again.

"Don't cry, pretty girl. I will protect you, from now on, I will never hurt you." he kissed the top of my head and repeated.

"Don't cry pretty girl, please don't cry."

I fell asleep in his arms.