Battle Scars

The next morning she woke up in Jeremy's bed, his arm draped over her naked waist. Extremely sore, she pulled herself out of bed with a wince and walked over to the window, concentrating on the weeping willow that swayed in Jeremy's backyard. She heard him stir lazily, muttering a "Good morning," while hobbling off to the bathroom. She stood in the center of his room for a minute, disbelieving of what she'd done last night. She'd been gone all night, her parents were probably looking for her. She'd slept with Jeremy, after swearing to herself she'd never even talk to him again, and she'd cut Bryce off indefinitely. Emotions wracked through her, and she became dizzy for a moment, stumbling onto the bed. She felt tears start to slip down her face and she curled up into a little ball, letting the sobs pound through her body. She was slightly aware of Jeremy crawling into bed next to her, placing his hand on her leg and running it up her thigh. She pulled her leg away and pushed his hand; she wasn't in the mood for Jeremy right now. He muttered an insult at her and stalked out of the room, grumbling under his breath the whole way. She kicked herself mentally, pulled at her hair, and screamed.

Why did I do this?

She couldn't even wrap her head around it. Jeremy, who'd hit her, made her kill her baby, and left her to die in that disgusting fucking park. Who'd scream at her nearly every day of their relationship, calling her a worthless cunt, and then still expecting her to put out. Jeremy, who'd put her through so much shit over the course of their relationship that she felt that she'd developed Stockholm Syndrome; how else would she be in love with him, even after all this? She still loved him, but not as much as she did. She could feel her heartstrings tugging, off into the direction of a boy who'd probably never picked up a drink or had sex in his life.

Bryce.

She knew she had to stop thinking about him, Jeremy would be able to tell and get mad. Jeremy. She still didn't know what to think. She knew she loved him, but she knew she loved him the way a moth loved a bright light; it was its glorious destruction. She knew that if he told her to follow him to the gates of Hell, she would, she was just that addicted to him.

She finally pulled herself out of bed and put on some of Jeremy's clothes. She walked out into the kitchen to him eating leftovers sloppily, and nodding in her direction. She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and read the texts Mom and Dad had sent her, asking her where she was, and eventually agrily saying that they had given up with her, she could do what she wanted. She smirked and grimaced at the same time, knowing that they were completely serious. She was happy, because now she could do whatever she wanted, but at the same time she liked Mom and Dad watching over her, helping her make the right decisions.

Not as much as you like torturing yourself, darling.

"Is there anywhere you need to go before I head to work?" Jeremy asked through a mouthful of food, not even looking at her. Quietly she responded that she needed to go home, trying to sound as submissive as possible. He nodded, grabbed his car keys, and dragged her out of the door by her hand.

The drive home was a quiet one. At one point in the awkward silence, he looked over at her. "You know I love you, right? I love you."

She smiled at him, and her conscience screamed at herself for getting butterflies in her stomach. "I know that, Jem. I love you too." The thoughts that ran through her mind were sickening, and she felt her legs become uneasy. When Jeremy finally pulled into the driveway, she quickly pecked him on the lips and nearly sprinted to the front door. She let herself in and walked into the kitchen. Mom and Dad sat at the table in their bathrobes, looking weary and hopeless.

"Allison," Mom began, and she winced at her full name, "we need to talk."

"Your mother's right," her father cut in, "don't worry, you're not in trouble, even though you should be. We know what you've done the past few days, and we know that you've gone back into your old habits, and we know that you still do those bad things to yourself, the cutting and the purging. We wish we could help you and save you, but we know that you don't want that. So we've decided that we're going to let you do what you want. But we aren't going to let it happen in this house."

She stared at them for a minute, confused. "I..I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Mom sighed, running a hand through her hair. "We want you to move out, Alli. We were up all night talking about this, and we don't want to do this, but we can't have you in this house, jepordizing the way your little sister lives her life. If you can get clean, clean of everything, then you can come back, but for right now we can't have you living here. I'll drive you wherever you need to go, but after that you're one your own. Do you understand?"

The last bit of her sentence blurred out in Alli's mind. All she could hear was the first line, we want you to move out. She couldn't believe it. After everything that had happened in her relationship with her parents, all the shit, the lying, the tears, they'd finally put their foot down. They were kicking her out. They were kicking her out. The thought repeated in her head, running by again and again until she thought her head was going to explode. She mumbled out that she would walk, thank you very much, she just needed to pack, and ran into her room.

The moment she slammed her door sobs started to wrack through her body, her breath hitching dangerously. While she wept she packed a backpack full of clothes and toiletries, grabbed her laptop case and phone charger, and walked out the front door, not looking back once. She walked the five miles to Jeremy's house and let herself in, curling up on his bed, still sobbing, and that was how he found her, four hours later.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his boots. She sniffed and wiped her face.

"My parents kicked me out... can I stay here? I don't have anywhere else to go." her voice broke off at the end of her sentence, and she continued crying.

He sat down on the bed next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "Babe, of course you can stay here. Of course, I don't know why you're crying, considering both of your parents were pieces of shit, but that's beside the point. You can stay here as long as you want; forever even. Now stop crying, come on, that's a good girl." she wiped off her face and looked up at him, sniffing occasionally.

"There you go. See, everything's okay. And you look beautiful, and I love you." As he finished the sentence he started running his hand up her thigh, nipping at her neck.

Later that night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, content at where she was, but wanting to get the hell of there at the same time.