Stay By Me

Chapter 2

This might be kind of triggering, mentions suicide and stuff. Idk, I haven't written the chapter yet, but it's not gonna be happy.

Diana had done almost nothing for the past 5 hours. She had opted to walk home, so by the time she walked in the door she looked sweaty and as if she had been training at the gym. She really didn't want to tell him the news, and this way she could stall a day or two if she wanted to.

"Hi Diana, how was practice today?" Her dad asked as she walked into the house. Good. He was calm.

"It was fine, worked on vault and beam, I'm hoping to get new skills on beam soon."

"Really? Because that's not what your coach told me when he called the house a few hours ago."

Shit.

"Your coach told me you were removed from the gymnastics program!" He thundered.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"He also told me it was because of choices that you were making! This is your fault! Don't act like I can't see your red eyes, or smell the weed on your clothes!"

"I was stressed! I just got my life dreams ended, and I was scared that you were going to react badly!"

Her father grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her to him. He then hit her roughly across the face.

"You should feel grateful you're getting off this easily, it's only a fraction of what you deserve for failure," he snarled in her face.

She shrunk back, wanting to leave as fast as possible, and to put ice to her now throbbing cheek.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said quietly. She didn't want to speak any more, because if she did, she would break and tears would quickly start spilling from her eyes.

With one last slap, her father let her go. She knew that she was getting off easy, which meant that there was much worse to come. But she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, she ran upstairs and ran cold water over a washcloth and held it to her face. She wished that she had ice, but that involved going back to the kitchen and facing her father again.

The left side of her face throbbed with pain, and it was already swelling. She had an especially bad bruise across her cheekbone, from where her father's ring had come in contact with her face. She didn't know why he still wore it, her mother had left 12 years ago. But if it kept him happier, she wasn't going to say anything.

She grimaced, and then winced from the pain. She was not going to be able to go to school tomorrow like this, not with a huge purple bruise across half of her face. No amount of makeup could cover it, at least with the skills and products she owned.

As much as she tried to hold them back, tears started streaming down her face. In the course of a week, her boyfriend had broken up with her and pretty much said it was her fault, any hopes and goals she'd had were ended, and that wasn't even the worst part. Her father was sober today, tomorrow was going to be a whole lot worse. She just knew he was going to be drunk, and she was going to get the beating of a lifetime.

She saw a couple ways out of it, though. She could run away. She didn't want to though, she didn't see much point in living life like that. She could, murder her father, she supposed, but she wouldn't want to live with that burden. So really, if she didn't want to bring any more pain on herself, if she really wanted the pain and hurting and agony to stop, there was one way out, wasn't there?

The razor blade in her sink cabinet beckoned her closer. Two little slices, and her pain and suffering could all be over. In theory, it was so simple, so easy!

She picked it up and placed it vertically against her wrist. Right here, right now, she could end it. Everything she ever knew. It could all be gone, right now.

She put the blade down. No. That was boring, she always said that she wanted to make an impact on the world somehow. Really, now with the promise of death, of sweet relief, that in itself was freeing. She could do whatever she wanted! Fuck everything, nothing mattered anymore. It's not like she would be there to pay the price or consequences.

Her face twisted into some kind of psychotic grin. She was no longer feeling the effects of the blunt she'd smoked earlier, and if she was really going to commit to this, she couldn't do it sober.

First, she took a very quick shower, then she pulled out her makeup and did her very best to cover up the large mark, and then did all of her makeup to hopefully help disguise the fact that there was a large and obvious purple splotch on her face. She went to her closet and pulled out a nice dress, one that would clearly label her as a soc. Ironic, since she certainly wasn't acting like the little-miss-perfect soc girls were supposed to be.

From there, she pulled a 3/4 full bottle of whiskey out from under her bed, and quickly gulped down as much as she could. It burned as it went down, and she had to take a break before chugging more. She needed as much liquid courage in her system as she could.

Then, when her father was in the bathroom she darted into his bedroom and stole his keys.

From there, she went downstairs and unlocked his study, where she quickly located his wallet and her car keys, as well as his emergency stash of money.

Then, she walked out, locked the doors, and exited the house. From there, she climbed into her father's car with a smirk. There was no way for this to end without her getting the ending she wanted.

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