Status: On possible hiatus due to no readers.

My Apocalypse

Nightmare

I have come to the conclusion that I'm the most horrible girl on the face of the planet. Not only have I cheated on my loving boyfriend, but I've put my best friend back in the line of danger. Wasn't Max breaking his arm enough for me to see that Ronnie doesn't take this lightly? Obviously not.

I think Max understood that what happened was only a one time thing. It shouldn't have even come to the point where we were even thinking about a one-night-stand. I couldn't blame my actions on the alcohol this time. I couldn't blame it on anything other than me being so incredibly stupid.

I lost my virginity two days ago and I've already slept with two different guys. So it's pretty clear; I'm the most horrible girl in the entire existence of the world. What a reputation. Eighteen years old and I already consider myself a terrible person. Woohoo.

How would I ever look at Ronnie again? I'm a terrible liar, he'll see right through me. I can't tell him, but I can't hide it from him either. I have to hide it. I can't let Max get hurt again, and I can't hurt Ronnie. How could I be so fucking stupid?

A hand on my arm snapped me out of my thoughts. I realized that I had been cleaning the kitchen table so vigorously that I was starting to take the varnish off. I looked up and saw Craig sitting in the chair across from where I was cleaning. He was smoking a Marlboro, taking long drags that would have made me dizzy. He flicked his ash in the ashtray as he just sat there, watching me like a hawk.

"What?" I asked, annoyed at his staring.

"Seriously, what's bugging you?" Craig took another drag before lazily butting the cigarette out in the ashtray.

"I guess I'm just stressed," It wasn't technically a lie. I was stressed out about what happened.

"About what?" he pushed.

I thought hard, looking for a quick answer that wouldn't be suspicious. "Period. I get really stressed out during my period. I get mood swings so bad, it's awful." I blurted.

Craig stared at me, blinking. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and coughed. "Well, um... good luck with that." He got up from his seat, taking a huge swig of his beer. He finished it off and put the bottle in the recycle bin before exiting the kitchen.

I sighed in relief. I put the dirty wash cloth in the sink before taking a cigarette from Craig's pack. I carried it upstairs into the bathroom along with my lighter. I set the cigarette and lighter on the counter after closing the door behind me. I undressed quickly, turning the water on in the tub. I poured the bubbles in the water while the tub was filling up.

After the tub was filled up, I shut the water off. I grabbed the cigarette and lit it with the lighter before climbing into the tub. I sank down, taking a deep drag from the cigarette, letting the nicotine soak my lungs. I blew out the smoke as I sighed contently. All my stress seemed to wash away.

I closed my eyes, dangling my hand with the cigarette on the side of the tub so the ash would fall on the floor. I had to sweep in here anyway. I occasionally took a drag here and there until it was down to the filter. I ran the tub water quickly, just long enough to soak the tip of the cigarette so it was completely out. I tossed the filter in the small trash can next to the sink from the tub.

I sank down further into the tub until the water almost touched my lips. I didn't realize how long I had actually been in the tub until I looked down and saw that my fingers were all pruney. Plus, Craig knocked on the door asking if I were still alive jokingly. Obviously I was. At least... I think I am.

I felt alive, I could feel my chest raising and falling with each breath which was a clear indicator that I was alive. But there was something else, the guilt drowned me. It sat on my chest, making it hard to breathe. It sounds so disgustingly cliche, I know. But isn't is possible that you can do something you regret something so much it just eats you alive from the inside out until you can't hold it in anymore? Then you keep it bottled up until the first person who asks "what's wrong?" everything explodes and you blurt it out into one sentence, and that person who asks is the one person who tells everyone your secret and ends up ruining your life?

I finally got out of the tub, drying off with a towel. I wrapped it snugly around myself before rushing into my room to change. I clicked the door shut while I changed. I put on a simple band tee and a pair of pajama shorts. I looked in my mirror making sure that I had removed all my makeup. The only lighting I had were my Christmas lights, but they were actually pretty bright.

I finally crawled into bed, opening the Netflix app on my phone. I found a comfortable position on my side as I searched for a movie to watch. I decided on a Netflix Original Series, Orange Is the New Black. I was four episodes into season 1, but already addicted to it.

In the middle of the episode I had fallen asleep. It was a very light sleep, I could still hear my phone playing the show. It was in and out, but I was aware of my surroundings. I was almost into a deep sleep when I felt someone sit on my bed. I kept my eyes shut, pretending to sleep. An arm reached over me, slipping the phone out of my hand. They paused the show and locked my phone, plugging it in to my charger. Lips pressed against my forehead as they moved the blanket up over my shoulders.

I peeked quickly to see Max leaving my bedroom, clicking the door shut behind him. I felt like a child being tucked into bed. Max did everything my dad would have done. If I had fallen asleep reading dad would carefully slip the book out of my grip, mark my page, and cover me over.

I miss the smell of moms pancakes in the morning, I miss the sight of dad reading the morning paper at the table, the taste of moms pancakes, the feel of their hugs. I miss them; everything about them.

That was the first night in a long time that I had dreamt about them.

It wasn't a particular happy dream. I don't remember the dream, but I woke up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. Max ran in, he asked me what was wrong. I couldn't answer him. As much as I hated it, the only thing I could do was cling to him pathetically as I sobbed.

Twenty minutes later I finally calmed down. I wiped my tears with the hem of my shirt. Max released me from his grip, only causing me to whimper. He sighed, wrapping me in his arms.

"C-Can you stay in h-here tonight?" I could barely speak. I was cold, depressed, tired, and I didn't want to be alone.

"Shh," Max cooed. He layed back from his sitting position on my bed, taking me with him. My head rested on his chest as he petted my hair.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled into his shirt.

"For what?"

"Everything."

Max paused. He thought for a moment, then continued petting my hair. "I'm not,"

I was too tired and too comfortable to say anything. I stayed silent, listening to his breathing as I drifted back to sleep. Safe and warm.
♠ ♠ ♠
I got internet back at my house. I wanted this chapter to be longer, but I was running out of ideas.
I think I know where I'm headed with this, all thanks to Tonks2013. ♥
ALSO, the lack of comments is depressing me. ;-;