The Bad Boy's.....What?

Chapter 32- The Boy I Love

Song On The Side: Nirvana- Smells Like Teen Spirit

 

Khloe’s POV:

 

               

                “Is that all you got?” I stammer with a tired smile on my face. That’s how I feel now, tired. At first, anger consumed my body giving me the will to fight. After the anger drains out of your body the sadness takes over, leaving you to be nothing but tired. I wish I could just close my eyes now, wondering if I really do have anything to live for. Unfortunately, every time my eyes close different shades of blue flash through them. Lucy’s eyes, the various emotions that run through Drew’s.

                “Shut up!” Mason backhands me harshly, almost making my neck snap with the force of it. Just another bruise to add to my already painted face. Hooray. “I swear if you don’t shut up I’ll put a bullet in everyone you love!”

                “I guess you get to live,” I deadpan. His brown eyes flash dangerously, darkening until they look black.

                I don’t get it.

                He looks so much like my father, but that’s where the similarities end. I don’t even want to stare at his face because I feel that it will taint the image of my father. Their appearance is so uncanny.

Two days I’ve been stuck in this rat hole. Two days of being trapped in a room of some old warehouse.

How cliché. 

Two days of getting beaten on because according to this dumbass, my brother and I are the reasons my mom refuse to leave with him. I kind of get the feeling is his morbid charisma. Correct me if I’m wrong.

A man walks into the room suddenly, making the heavy door whine. He walks over to Mason and whispers something in his ear before taking his leave without sparing me a glance. Yep, that’s right buddy. Ignore the tied up bloody mess on the floor.

I’m just chilling,

“Has my idiotic son been speaking to you?” He stomps over to my almost limp figure, I can feel blood dripping down the side of my face from when he decided to stomp on it. His question sinks in and I realize he could really hurt Mike for helping me. I could give him up right now in payback for all his douchebaggery, but I’m just not that type of person.

“Someone decided to procreate with you?” I respond. My humor’s not well appreciated if the blow to my ribs is any indication. Ah, what the hell is one more broken rib to add to the pile-up?

“Have you been talking to Mike yes, or no?” 

“That’s your son? I guess being an asshole is part of genetics.” I should really shut up to avoid being hit so much, but if I’m going to die anyways, what’s the point? His eyes once again darken with anger, but instead of lashing out on me he gives me a malicious grin.

“You look so much like her, yet your personality is that of my brother.” My eyes narrow at the mention of my parents. He doesn’t have the right to speak about them. He doesn’t have the right to even think about them. “Shall I show you once again what happens when I’m not pleased?”

“No!” I blurt it out without thinking and it’s one of the biggest mistakes ever. Knowing that the last thing I want to watch is the plane that held my parents crash. The sick bastard had the plane going down in ashes videotaped and I was lucky enough to watch it on my first day here. It’s just another sick reminder of how cruel this world really is. What’s the point on saving my last breath?