Is it Love or Hate when it comes to Jason McCann

"Let go of him!" I yelled at the top of my lungs to the cops, snapping the handcuffs onto my boyfriend who's name is Jason. I felt hot tears stream down my heated face. 

"Mhm" I groaned this morning in a bed, half asleep. "Ow! You hit me!" I heard a familiar voice say next to me. I opened my eyes and saw Seth, my older brother laying next to me. I looked around. Why am I in here? I thought. I looked at him, still in his boxers and messed up Bieber bed head and asked him. "Oh, well you kept screaming and crying last night." "Why though?" I asked him. "Well you kept saying 'Jason'" He said to me mocking how I sound in my sleep. I felt tears escape my eyes. Seth held me.

Why am I acting like this, when that happened over a month ago? I said to myself. "Sis, it was only a dream" Seth said to me gentle. "But it happened Seth! 3 months ago! 3 months!" I yelled while I was drowning in my tears. It took 10 minutes to calm myself down. Seth was already dressed and fixed his Bieber hair. I got up and went to my room. I got a text. It read "Hey. Can I come over?" it was from Chris. I smiled to myslef and then the doorbell rang. I stayed in my room with tears streaming down my face.

"Hey" someone said to me across the bedroom. I looked up and watched Chris flip his dark brown hair the way Seth does. "Have you been crying?"  he said to me. I nodded my head and more tears flooded my cheeks. Chris held me tight. I cried into his chest. "Your bro told me everything when I was downstairs." I felt guilty. I caused him to go to jail, to break up with me. I thought to myself. I heard footsteps on the stairs. I didn't stop crying, because either way they'll see me cry.

Chris held me tighter. I felt safe in his arms. I felt Seth pick me up and lay me down on my bed. I fell asleep, but I still felt Chris and Seth lay beside me and sleep. An hour later, I woke up. I heard ticks of something hitting my window. I got up and opened the window. I looked down and saw Jason there. I must be dreaming. "I hate you!" I screamed at the badboy dressed 16-year-old that was standing on my front lawn. 

I slammed the window closed and cried hard, sliding down my bedroom wall.