What's So Good About Picking Up the Pieces ?

Her lips moved in perfect sync with mine, and I was blown away in the moment. I lost track of time, and I honestly thought the earth stood still. I couldn’t even hear the waves in the ocean anymore, she was the only thing I could think about, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Too soon, she pulled away. She turned and looked at the shore, and I realized she had broken the kiss because of the guys. They were acting obnoxious and cheering back on the beach. Anger clouded my eyes, and I stalked towards the shore. I would never do this to them, what were they thinking ? To them it was all in good fun, but to me it was more than that.

I walked up to Mike and shoved him. “Hey man, what’s your problem ?” He asked me, acting innocent. Jaime and Tony quickly moved out of the way, and I saw Chesney go inside out of the corner of my eye. I sighed and went off on Mike, bitching him out. He got mad and soon the fight was physical, with shoving and hitting. Tony and Jaime broke us up after a few minutes, and Tony dragged an intoxicated Mike back home. Jaime and I shrugged, and I noticed Chesney standing on the deck. Jaime and I scuffled up to her and Shayla, who was long passed out on a chair. Jaime offered to help Chesney get Shayla inside, and Chesney gave him a special smile. I mentally smacked myself for not offering before him. I imagined her giving me that smile, and my heart melted.

I went to grab my shirt, and Jaime did the same. We walked back inside together, and Chesney invited us to stay for a while longer. Jaime declined slyly; he understood me. It was getting kind of late, a little after 1am, but it was worth it to stay. I followed Chesney to her bedroom, wondering why we were going in there. I figured it was because Shay was sleeping, but you never know. Her room was plain white with wood flooring, but it worked well with her beautiful queen bed. I took in her bedroom, even with all its boxes, wanting to remember every detail.

I suddenly got really nervous, and I knew I was about to have an anxiety attack. I hadn’t taken my pills this morning, because I had planned on drinking tonight, and I didn’t want any interference. I couldn’t let her see me like that; I had to act fast. I looked over at her, caught her eye, and smiled. I pulled her in for a comforting hug, and I felt a little better. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances. I gave her a sad upturn of my lips so she would know I was sorry, and I mumbled about having to go. I saw disappointment in her eyes, so I quickly looked away. It wouldn’t be the first time I disappointed someone, and I didn’t want to look.

I staggered home, feeling the intensity of the alcohol I had drank. The guys were all settled in for the night, and I headed for my room at the back of the house. I was the only one who had all my stuff unpacked, probably because I was the most excited to stay here for the summer. Don’t get me wrong, I love touring and doing my music, but sometimes it’s nice just to take a break. Plus, this place was going to be really inspiring for my writing, I could tell. Chesney was going to be an inspiration for my writing too….

I changed and settled into bed, still thinking of my kiss with Ches. She was amazing, I couldn’t believe I had had the courage to even talk to her. Thoughts of her kept keeping me awake, and I tossed and turned until I finally fell into a deep slumber.

He shoved me down, having no shame in pushing me to the ground despite how weak I was. He had no mercy, he didn’t care if he beat me into a coma. He smashed my face into the ground, and I begged for him to stop. I wondered where Mike was, and I felt pathetic, having to rely on my younger brother to help me. It’s not my fault he was the perfect child to my dad, and it wasn’t my fault that I was so scrawny. He kicked my ribs hard, and I heard a crack. Then he ripped his boot across my face, and I felt flesh tear. Blood trickled down over my eyebrow, and suddenly the beating stopped.
I shot up in bed, covered in sweat. I had been having flashbacks ever since I was a kid about when my dad beat me. He was abusive towards me since I was around eleven until the time I moved out with Mike, around seventeen. The only way I escaped was because perfect child Mike came with me, and that was what he wanted. We haven’t spoken to my dad since.

We speak with our mom all the time, and we visit her when we can. She finally divorced my father a couple years back, and that put an end to my worries about her…and me.