Genevieve thought her life was over when she heard the news of her moving. But a certain blonde boy makes things a bit easier. Or maybe just a bit more complicated.
Moving back to Forks, Washington will be the biggest adventure of Genevieve's life.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Recap: In the last chapter Genevieve found herself in a bit of trouble during the party. The next morning she called Damon to come and pick her up. He quickly went and picked her up and took her back to his house. :)
It's been 3 days. For 3 days I laid unmoving in the guest bed that Damon had kindly let me stay in. I lay under the covers, staring at the wall in front of me, lost in my own thoughts. I wanted to get up, I wanted to be normal again, but my mind and body disagreed, keeping me glued to my spot in the bed.
Jasper had called me back the morning Damon had come to get me, but I couldn't find it in me to even look at the phone. I had texted my mother to tell her I'd be staying with her for a few days, so as not to worry her.
"You need to eat something," I heard Damon's voice coming from the doorway of the room. But I shook my head, feeling too nauseous to even stomach the thought of food.
"Do you at least want me to run you a shower?" He asked me. I paused for a moment considering his offer, I'd quite like the idea of at least feeling clean. Though I didn't really feel dirty because of my lack of showering. I nodded my head wordlessly, listening as he left the room, hearing the water start to run from inside the bathroom.
He returned a moment later letting me know It was running. I nodded, slowly sitting up from my lying position. My joints cracking in protest, my muscles aching.
Damon had left the room, leaving me to strip my clothes and hop into the shower. I stood there just standing under the warm water for a moment, not wanting to move.
I sighed and finally began washing my hair, hoping maybe I'd somehow wash the memories down the drain too. I picked up the washcloth and bar of soap that was laying out for me, beginning to smooth it across my skin. But no matter how many times I kept washing, I still felt dirty.
I could still feel his hands touching me, so I scrubbed harder. I vigorously rubbed the skin of my arms, my legs, my chest, desperately trying to wash away the feeling.
Wet tears mixed with the now cold water coming from the spout above, but I didn't care, I kept furiously scrubbing the fragile skin of my body, my mind in a daze, unable to get the images out of my head.
I wished the drugs he'd used would've knocked me out, instead they only paralyzed me, forcing me awake to face my nightmare.
