“I mean, look at those scars!” Colton said, walking over to me. He combed my hair out of my face, and I instantly swatted his hands away from me.
“Don’t touch me!” I warned, wanting nothing more than to leave.
All the exits were blocked with people staring at me, though. My heart started pounding faster and faster in my chest as the realization settled in.
“Colton, stop—” Missy started, but he cut her off.
“Shut the fuck up, Missy,” he replied with venom in his words. “I want to introduce people to your best friend.” He patted his hands against my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off. He held on tighter. I was trapped in a cage with cruel people surrounding me. Cruel people who used to be my friends. Cruel people who, for some reason, hated me simply for the way I looked.
“Easy, Quasimodo,” Colton cooed as he massaged my shoulders. “We’re just having a good laugh at your expense.” He took his hand and rolled it across my arched back. “I mean, tell me this isn’t Hunchback, you guys, and I’ll tell you you’re a liar.”
I shoved him away from me, feeling violated as his handsroamed my body. He flew backward and hit his back against the countertop. I saw his face tense up as a look of darkness overtook his stare.
“You bitch,” he hissed as he shoved me, knocking me down to the floor. He then picked up the trash bin next to him and proceeded to dump it over my head. I screamed in horror as it happened. People stood around watching what this guy did to me, but no one helped. Not one person stepped up to my defense. No one. Not a soul. If anything, people laughed. People joined in. They started throwing their drinks at me, too, drenching me from head to toe. The alcohol that hit me burned my eyes, blurring my vision as I looked around for an exit. All eyes were on me as I stood there covered in trash. Covered in raw meat cuttings, gross liquids. Disgusting, half-eaten food. It smelled like someone had vomited in that trash can, too.
My body...
My heart...
My mind...
Ouch.
I was seconds away from sobbing as I looked around the room that was filled with people who I once called my friends.
I felt empty inside.
I felt helpless.
I felt alone.
I didn’t know a person could feel so deeply alone in such a crowded room.
Brian would help me.
I knew he would.
He never bullied me. Not once. Not ever.
When I looked up and found Brian’s eyes locked on mine, I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes. He was going to help me; I just knew it. He was my friend. Maybe only in the shadows, but ifthere was ever a time to come out into the light to support me, it was right then and there. I didn’t just want him to help me.
Ineededhim.
I needed a friend.
Brian was seven steps away from where I stood. He took a step toward me. There were only a few more steps before he’d be able to reach out his hand and help me up.
Please, Brian.
Take the next six steps.
Right as he was about to do so, Rosie walked over to him and took his hand into hers. They were holding hands. Were they dating? Since when did Rosie date Brian? How did they get together? Why were they together? And why was it breaking my heart?
“What a loser,” Rosie commented, gesturing toward me. “Get rid of it, you guys.”
Get rid of it?
Was she talking about me?
