Broken

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  • Published: 3 Feb 2017
  • Updated: 25 Feb 2017
  • Status: Complete
"I can't love you, no matter how I want to. Every time I let anyone close, they end up getting killed. It's best for you to just forget me. Trust me. "
-Storm

"I can't love you, even though it hurts for me not to. I just can't put you through that. I can never forget you, but I can leave you. It's best that way. Even though this will hurt you, you'll be alive"
-Asher

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7. Milk And Cookies/ Storm

I can’t blame anyone but me. It’s my fault why I’m here. I should have killed Trevor when I had the chance. Stupid fucking me just had to let him go. That’s the last time I make that mistake. I swear it.   


 

I can’t tell weather I’ll die from starvation, or boredom. Hunger began to naw at me three hours ago. Boredom struck me the second he left. His followers hold nothing interesting.

Liam is quite tall, shaggy brown hair, a piercing in his lip, and a small tattoo on his wrist, and olive toned skin. One girl was a walking stick, face caked with makeup, stringy brown hair, long finger nails with chipped red fingernail polish on them. She had sickly pale skin. Biggest mouth I’ve ever seen. Her voice is so squeaky and loud, sounds like nails on a chalk board.

The other two girls held nothing special. I think one was named Holly or Hannah she only wore bit of makeup, her hair was dyed a bright blue, I think she had contacts in because her eyes. They were the same bright blue like her hair, a nose ring, and one black tattoo on her arm. I think it was a fox, pale skin and two scars on her right arm.

The other girl was Dakota, short black hair, light brown almost yellow eyes, four ear piercings, no tattoos, hardly any makeup as well.

Jason the nicest one so far, tall, tan skin, green eyes, and curly black hair.  No tattoos or piercings. He said nothing, his eyes talked for him. They held so much question.

  And one more, Jazz. Asshole that one is. Short dark brown hair, dark eyes, tall, and tattoos covers his arms. The whole time he talked about how I would die if I fucked up. I’ll show him.

No one’s here now, just me and my thoughts.

 

   

    I don’t even know what time it is. I can’t sleep, I can’t do anything but think. And that's boring. The zip-ties around my wrists begin to hurt. It’s red and tender from trying to break them.  Nothing can fucking break a zip-tie, at least nothing that isn't sharp. I’ve already tried to bite it. The only thing I got out of it is a bleeding lip.   

    The door opened with a loud creek. He stepped through. Not a single word was said. His hair was a mess and his eyes were bit bloodshot. His black shirt was wrinkled, pink and purple dots colored his neck. Someone had a bit of fun. I watched his eyes scan me up and down

“Sleep well?

I don’t even need a mirror to show me the bags under my eyes.  

“Ya. I slept like a baby in a huggies diaper”

His eyes traced over my arms.

“Nice tattoos”

“Nice hickies”

A hand went up to his neck and touched one of the red dots.

“Looks like you good night”

“Not at all”

After a while I started to tap my foot on ground trying to come up with something.

“So. Have anybody that’s gonna come looking for you?”

I think about that question for awhile.

“No. I disappear a lot, there's nothing new about this”

I tell the truth. Disappearing is just something I’m good at. Perhaps the only thing I’m good at. Right at that moment my stomach decided to cry out for food.  For the oddest reason, I felt my cheeks get warm.

“Hungary are ya?”

“What do you think”

I wanted my voice to sound harsh, I mean they did leave me in here with no food, water, or toilet. But it didn’t, more playful than anything else. He pushed his tongue to the side of his cheek. Without a single word, he leaves.

    Like a bored child, I sigh deeply and rest my head against the wall. I know I may die of hunger, but I would kill for some music. Or at least some chalk, so I could be over dramatic. Mark the number of days I’ve been here, and on the final day I’ll write. Storm was here. My stomach growled once more.

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

I stare at my stomach as if it was an animal. I’ve been here two days and already I’m starting to lose my mind. Just fucking great. I bring my head up a little only to smack it down on the wall. Don’t really know why the fuck I did that. It hurt like a bitch. I guess I just needed to feel something besides hunger.

    Laying down with my back against the wall, I stare at the door. I bite the sore on my lip, a faint taste of blood a rose in my mouth.

    Just like before the door opened, and in he came. This time with a pale blue cup in his hand. In the other was a bundle. He looked a bit angry. Biting his lip he sets the bundle and the cup down. Sitting up I could see what is inside of the cup. Milk. Undoing the bundle my mouth started to water. What now lays in front of me is a cup of milk. And six chocolate chip cookies, stacked perfectly.

 

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