Just Love Me Once Again

Page 11

Trixie.

The next few weeks were like cave diving with a perfectly good parachute that I refused to use. School, my mother, mother fucker stepfather, Natalie, they were all around for me to grab onto, but the only thing that got me out of the house every day was the promise of trouble.

I dragged my irritable, pissed off ass into English, trying to figure out why the hell I still came to the school. It was the last goddamn place I wanted to be anymore. The hallways were always crammed with people but still seemed empty.

"Miss Beatrice, don't sit down," Mrs. Hanna ordered as I stroll into the class late. Everyone was already seated, and I stopped to look at her.

"Excuse me?" I asked as she scribbled on a pink slip.

She handed me the paper. "You heard me, go to the Principal's office," She ordered as she stuck her pen into her high bun.

I smiled, euphoria washing over my body at any possibility of mayhem." No, 'please' with that request?" I taunted and snatched the paper out of her hands.

Hushed laughter and snorts broke out around the classroom, and Hanna narrowed her dark brown eyes on me.

Turning around, I tossed the slip into the trash and threw open the wooden door, not caring if it closed behind me as I left.

A few gasps and whispers filled the air, but it was nothing new.

I dug my keys out of my jeans pocket and slipped on my sunglasses.

I'd blown off school and tracked down the tattoo artists that didn't ask for I.D. I was under eighteen, so not legally allowed to get tattooed without a parent's consent, but they didn't seem to care.

I closed my eyes, while the sting of the needle, carve into me. I hadn't tensed up at all, and I hadn't thought about much of anything, since walking into the shop. My arms and legs felt weightless, I could get addicted to this.

I smiled, picturing myself ten years from now covered in tattoos, simply because I liked pain.

"You want to take a look?" The tattoo artist asked when she'd finished.

I stood up and walked to the wall mirror, eyeing the words on my back.

Yesterday Lasts Forever.

The words came out of nowhere in my head, but they felt right. The script was just illegible enough not to be easily read, and that's what I wanted.

The tattoo was for me and no one else.

I paid and picked up some food, taking it back to my house. My mother had texted, she and her husband were going out with friends after work, so I knew I'd have the place to myself for a while.

I reached home, undressed myself, only leaving my lingerie on me, grabbed a wine bottle from my mom's bar, and went upstairs to my room.

I pushed open the window. A cold breeze hit my face, reminding me of my home back in New York. Taking a sip from the wine bottle, I settled myself on the window frame, hanging my legs outside. The sun was setting, giving a beautiful view. I remembered the days when dad used to play with me till sunset.

My dad had a big shoe company in New York. Everything was perfect until dad found mom cheating with someone. Dad loved mom so much and not able to handle the betrayal, he committed suicide.

After my dad's death, I got my first tattoo on his memory.

I skipped classes, and my grades deteriorated.

My mom married this shit, and he wanted to take over my dad's company. But as per my dad's will, the company will be run by his trusted authorities, until I turned 18. With the failure of his plans, he continued messing with my head. Sometimes I walked out. Sometimes I didn't.

My mom started drinking. The dream of dad's death kept me awake at night, but the pills helped.

I bought a Boss 302, it kept me occupied. I messed around with some boys. Had parties at my house, more noise, everything rolled off of me, because none of it mattered.

Five months later we shifted here, leaving everything and everyone there.

I was engulfed in my thoughts when I saw a boy with grey eyes gazing me from his window.