Status: Finished 10/20/11.

Perfectly Messed Up

Stitches, Scars and Smiles

Skyla's POV

I couldn't believe that I agreed to this. I can't believe I'm trusting a man. I can't even believe that I'm in a stranger's house!

Oh, just shut up Skyla! He's Pierre Bouvier, and you listen to fucking Simple Plan for God's sake! You practically know the guy!

My mind argued with me, the whole time.

"No, I don't know him!" I said out loud.

Shit. I mean, oops. He gave me an odd look.

"Sorry, my mind's arguing with me." I said slightly laughing.

I'm laughing? Are you serious?

I must be losing my goddamned mind. He laughed along with me. I had to admit, it made me feel good about myself.

"I know what you mean. It happens to me from time to time."

"No! Really?"

"Yes. It happens a lot when I'm writing songs."

"I guess I can see that."

"It's good to see you happy again."

This is proof that there just may be good guys out there.

"Thanks. Me too. I thought that I'd end up in the hospital."

Did I just say that?

Yeah, Skyla, you idiot. You did.


I hate my brain sometimes.

Just then, he looked at me with a concerned face.

"Skyla?"

"What?"

"Why do you think that?"

"You wouldn't want to know."

"Why?"

"Are you now gonna ask, where, when and how?" I said sarcastically.

"Skyla, I barely know you, but I know you're hurting and you're hiding it."

"Get the hell away from me!"

He's not getting it out of me. If he's not Sheena, then no. I started to walk out the door when he stopped me.

"If you leave now, you're just gonna break down again!"

"How would you know? You don't know the shit that I've been through! You should be surprised, I even agreed to come in here!" I said as tears began to drop.

"I know when someone needs a shoulder to cry on."

I gave up and hugged him.

"Now, that's better. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Mhmm. Only if you tell me, your problems, whether they're in the past or they're fresh, like an open wound."

"Alright." he said hesitantly.

His problems must be serious.

"Do you want me to go first or do you?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"I'll go."

I took the deepest breath anyone possible could take.

"It started only two years ago when I had my first and only boyfriend. You see, I was a shy girl, and I was awkward. I had trouble talking to boys. Anyways, when we got together, I was so happy. I never felt like that before in my life. We were in love as cheesy as it gets. It was the best feeling in the world. He was the sweetest guy and the most gorgeous guy, with his shoulder-length black hair with an emo bang and his green eyes until one day, he changed for the worse. We had been dating for eight months when he got into alcohol and drugs, not to mention he was cheating on me with a shorter, ditzy brunette with big boobs. He would yell at me for the dumbest things, like me forgetting to call after I got out of school. I thought, maybe he'll get help or stop cold turkey. Nope. I was wrong.

My face was red, and I almost couldn't talk. He just handed me a tissue and pushed a hair out of my face.

"After a few weeks, he hit me because I came to his house 'at the wrong time', as he used to say. I couldn't stand it any longer. I told him, 'No one treats me this way, and I won't stand for this. I'm breaking up with you, whether you fucking like it or not!' And I walked out of the door, but he pulled me back in and threw me up against the wall. 'No one leaves Jasper Raines and gets away with it!' He continued to kick the living daylights out of me, but I managed to call the cops on him and now he's in prison.

"Two more things happened. I was at a party with my friends, and I lost them, quite, unfortunately. That night, I was raped, despite my tries to leave. I also was mugged yesterday."

He hugged me, comforting me as much as he could.

"I'm glad you pulled through."

"Thanks. It was hard, but I was determined to make it."

"You're welcome, by the way, what happened to your hands and arms?"

"I had a nightmare about the night that I was raped last night, and I was so mad that I punched the bathroom mirror until I was bleeding."

I looked down.

"It'll be okay. Trust me. Can I go now?" he asked politely.

"Yep. Go ahead."

"Yesterday, my fiancee broke up with me because she thought I was cheating on her when I really wasn't. She told me I wasn't good in bed anyway. She was the fake hoe-bag, who I thought loved me."

I heard the pain, as I had and the oh-so-familiar anger, I felt when I spoke.

"What a bitch! Anyone would be lucky to have you in any way, shape or form."

He smiled.

"You're amazing too."

I blushed.

"Can I have your number?" he asked.

"Yes."

At that moment, I was ready to sing and dance, and I wouldn't mind doing it in front of him.