𝓙𝓪𝓷𝓮 (18+) | ON PAUSE

Chpater 3 | Pain Medication

Jaylin.

I grip tight to my sleeves. Silently puling, not to be heard, but not to be unheard.

I lean my head back against the door, wondering...Wondering about...honestly nothing.

Why am I like this?

What have I done wrong?

Should I just-

Ah. Ow.

I feel a shot-up throb in my ribs.

"Aghh...!" I feel it again. I put my hand on my right-upper rib and I slowly, weakly lift the hem of my shirt and I see a bruise. A very large one, larger than my hand...And boobs...Well, that just hurts my self-esteem, that sucks.

I get up and pitifully walked my way to the kitchen to find some pain medication.

There's none. There's nothing. I snicker to myself. Laughing at myself in amusement.

The thought of when we used to be so stocked up on pain medication when I was younger. I never knew why. I never asked. And I will never wonder why. Now the only time my dad doesn't have any, the only time when I need it, he doesn't have it.

I let out a harsh sigh of annoyance at my stupidity mind. I lightly slam my hand on the counter and grabbed my jacket from before and some money that I saw laying around and then my phone that was partially cracked.

And I head out the door.

~~~~~

I open the door and I hear the ring of the door ding. I walk my way to the counter. I see a different person at the counter. A middle-aged man was now behind the counter instead of the young boy that was here last night. I guess he wasn't working today's shift.

"Um, could I have some ibuprofen?" I ask.

"Uh-huh."

He just stares at his phone, playing...I go on my tippy toes, Candy Crush, playing Candy Crush. I feel a sharp pain pricking me in the ribs. This dude.

"So could I have-"

"Yeah just wait!" he angrily snaps at me. What the fuck is with this dude? "Stupid bitch..." he mumbles.

I'm about to through these packs of Snickers in his god damn face. But this stupid bruise is kindly holding me back. I place my hand on the edge of the counter, trying to tell myself, to be patient and to not yell in his oily face.

Dang. His face is really shiny.

I support myself on the counter, frustratingly feeling heat drip down my spine. The patience isn't doing me so well.

I try again. "Um excuse me, could I-"

"Hey, Asshole!" I hear a slam on the counter, awaking my dead body, almost dead body. Not dead yet. "Could I get some Marlboro?" Ohh nice voice this young man got. Who is this unknown person?

I see the worker finally lifting his head up and instead of giving an ugly glare he gave me, he immediately puts his phone down and grabs the Marlboro. I turn my head around and the first thing I see is a sharp jawline that is perfectly aligned on the bottom of his face. The guy from the night before.

My eyes then travel down his body, not purposely, sort of out of instinct, seeing a black Nike t-shirt that perfectly defined his chest muscles and I, then see his intimidating eyes drop to me.

"Aren't you going to ask?" he nods to the worker, telling me to ask.

"Y-yeah."

I swiftly turn my head back to the front making me see black edges coming around my vision.