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I almost choke on the bite, swallowing it with difficulty.
Just like that, my hunger is gone. I eye the pizza in my hand, feeling sick as my fingers weaken and I drop it on the table like it’s a gift from the devil.
“Fuck you, Vickie.” I try to say it with all the venom I keep in reserve for her while knowing perfectly her jab weakened my defenses.
“You like how she looks now, boys, but believe me, she wasn’t always like this. This kind of skinny only comes from putting her fingers down her throat.”
I’m shaking when I turn around to face her. “Are you seriously so petty you want to insult me for what I looked like three years ago?”
“Three years ago?” she snorts. “You’re still ugly, Jade. No amount of jumping from dick to dick will ever make you pretty.” She presses a finger on my cheek. “I can still see your zits. You really are disgusting without makeup on.”
I blink as my vision narrows. At the back of my mind, I can hear the verbal abuse from my school peers. The words they’d use and the way I just ran to the bathroom to cry it out. And then I’d make myself sick.
“Hello-oh?” Vickie sing-songs. She waves a hand at me, refocusing my vision. “Holy shit, you’re worse than before you ran away from us.”
My grip on the knuckle duster tightens, and my anger at the world comes back tenfold.
Fist flying without another thought, I hit her eyebrow on purpose. I want something that will hurt like hell but that won’t punch her lights out. I need her awake to suffer.
She crashes to the floor with a cry as the three guys cheer for us to fight. Fucking assholes. As I straddle her hips, people are already gathering around us. I hit her in the exact same spot. Blood is gushing from her face, but I’m ready for the third hit.
I rear my arm back just as someone’s fingers grab me by the waist, pulling me back.
“She started it,” I scream.
I shout to let me go, but there’s nothing I can do when two arms wrap tightly around my waist. I know it’s Ethanagain,because I recognize the tattoo of a dismantled doll on his forearm, and the smile of a skull on the back of his hand. He seems set on not letting me get into a fight tonight.
He doesn’t say anything to me as he drags me away, but when he puts me down, he turns back to Vickie.
“You. Out.”
She tries to fight back on his order, whining like the little bitch she is as she holds a tissue to her face. “But Ethan—”
“Get out of this house, Vickie, before I kick you out myself.”
I use the distraction to get away. My stomach is heavy,aching, I feel sick. I stride out of the kitchen, pushing through the small crowd that gathered, and through the living room.
The second I’m in the hallway, I run for the bathroom.
Don’t do it. Please, please, don’t do it.
I close the bathroom door behind me, whimpering when I see myself in the mirror.
An ugly fucking monster. That’s what you are.
I wipe tears away from my face, throwing the knuckle duster to the side as I do it.
Taking in a scattered breath, I wash my hands. “Don’t do it,” I tell myself.
But there’s a difference between what I say and what I do. It’s an unstoppable force. It pulls from inside me. There’s lead in my stomach, and it won’t go away until I force it out.
I’m sweating by the time I kneel in front of the toilet. This room is my worst nightmare for so many reasons.
I stare at the white bowl, tears streaming down my face.
With a shake of my head, I press my fingers against my lips, still trying to convince the poisoned part of my soul not to do it.
It’s a battle with myself. Ineedto do it, though something is screaming not to, keeping my mouth shut so I don’t let my fingers in.
