𝑷𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵

☀︎︎𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵☀︎︎

I turned my head swiftly at the question directed at me, "Huh? No, I-I don't fuck with him. At all."

I couldn't believe that this was still going on. Savior told me he took care of it.

"Ariana, you doing too much, man. Get the fuck out. I'm not playing."

"You really let a bitch like her fuck up your whole life. Listen, hun, he know where home at." She turned to me.

"I don't even like this nigga, yours or not. So, you gon address me by my name or not address me at all," I put down my brush for a second.

"Whatever, you a hoe ass bitch an-"

"Ariana, get the fuck out!" Savior stood up.

All she did was roll her eyes and finally leave. I decided that I was done for the day. I couldn't handle this. I couldn't handle old situations coming back to haunt me. It felt like my life was on repeat. Be harassed and/or assaulted, get called a hoe for it, shut down, get past it, and then rewind.

"Sorry, Gee. I ain't know she-"

"It's fine."

I got my bag off the floor and gathered some of my stuff.

"Nah, it's not fine. Ari shou-"

"Savior," I paused and made eye contact with him, "it's fine."

It wasn't.

I went home and got away from everyone. I felt like I was being destructive. I felt like I was the reason that everyone's life was changing for the worse. I led Messy on, I ruined Savior's family, I got my brother and best friend together, and then I got Mani shot.

It was hard being strong all the time. It was hard taking care of myself all the time.

The only way I could cope was to express myself through my work. I pulled out the biggest canvas I had,  took out every single paint I had, and splatter every color I had against it. There was no method to my madness other than yearning to feel relief.

Reds, blues, and yellows mixed together in front of me to make purples, oranges, and greens. Purple over powered each one of them.

By the time I was done with all the paint throwing, I went to wash my hands, but, when I finally looked up at my self in the mirror, I looked horrible. My tears were falling down my cheeks, my eyes were red and puffy, and overall I just looked disheveled.

I was appalled at what I was seeing. This person wasn't me. This wasn't the person I wanted to be. I wanted to be strong, confident, Majia. That's who I wanted to be.

But I had to realize that I couldn't be her all the time. I could wish and desire to be her all I wanted, but that wasn't realistic.

Thoughts of Messy poured into my mind as I cleaned up my space. After Ariana mentioned him today, I was terrified. Knowing that he still talked about me made me scared to even be alone in my house. Who knew when he would excise that whatever deal he made with Savior didn't matter anymore?

My house became uncomfortably quiet. The eerie silence made it easy to hear every eingle crack in the floor and all the movement from the floor above mine. I hated it.