Kissing In Cars

2AM

I can’t sleep. I’ve been crying again. I bite down my pillow to avoid screaming. Vic strokes my hair and tells me nice things, but I think they’re all lies everything is a fucking lie. I feel sick, about everyone about everything. I rock myself back and forth covering my ears because everyone is screaming words to me I don’t want to hear.
“Shhh…” Vic says removing my hands from my ears and kissing them.
He starts singing that song again, the one that says about a girl who climbs a tree hiding from her parents waiting for them to look for her, the song about me.
“I can’t Vic. I can’t.” I told him.
“You can, remember I’m here and I always will be.” He says. His arms wrapped around me.
“I fucked up. I always fuck up I am forever a fuck up.”
“Don’t say that, you’re not. Everyone has his or her flaws.”
“You think so?” I ask him.
“I know so.”
We kiss. Then soon we were on the bed naked but then I started to feel like Charlie from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Everything started to click. The memories started to return and I am back to where I was three years ago. Back in that room, which I remember was color green, back in that party, and back with the laughing people, back with Sebastian.
I make a run to the bathroom as everything I had eaten started to come back up and I feel like a miserable little shit. I remember how he pulled my hair. I remember being too weak to move and all I could do was cry as I feel him enter me. I remember everything. I remember how Sebastian’s best friend Freddie took a video and all the lipgloss senior girls started laughing and called me slut. I remember going home where my mother scolded me for going home too late. I remember finding the bottle of sleeping pills. I remember filling in the bathtub with water. I remember looking at the bottle and crying. I remember saying a prayer to a god I don’t fully believe in. I remember taking in the whole bottle of pills then falling off to sleep.
Vic holds my hair and again fed me up with his endearing words about how strong I was and how it’s going to be okay. I cry because I’m not strong and it will never ever ever be okay again.

400 Days Before

Summer is over and the first thing I do after school is go to Vic’s house. We’re watching The Breakfast Club, eating as much as we can and talking about everything.
“So how was your vacation?” I asked Vic.
“If you were there it would’ve been awesome but you weren’t so I guess it was pretty suckish, I went surfing though and it was quite awesome.” He says. “How was yours?”
“Full of shit. Internet day and night reread books and did some shit art all while locked in the attic pooping and peeing in a fucking potty like I was a two year old.” I told him.
“Why did she lock you there anyway?” Vic asks.
Then I started bawling because I was sick of hiding it. I was sick of keeping everything in. I know I won’t just stop but maybe if I tell someone it will be a big step.
I roll up my sleeves, ugly angry brown and red scars lining up my arms each of them telling a story, each of them hiding a memory. “Because I did this and she caught me and I’m so fucking sick of myself.” I told him.
He holds me in his arms. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here, I’ll always be here, it will get better, it always does, and I love you.”
I cry there for a while until I felt better. Maybe it does get better.