POWER|FATAL

15| Explanation

ROCCO

"What do you mean, Nicole? He never lay his hand on her." I said to her, she took a deep breath in before explaining once again.

"Well, he was secretly giving her sleeping pills, not her own pills, street drug ones. She kept telling me that she was always exhausted and could barely get out of bed, but then....she told me about their arguments and how after every single one, Scar would get her a drink of water. Laced with high dosage pills."

What the fuck?!

"She found the pill bottle, gave them to me and we googled it. They're meant to knock people out, they're usually only used in hospitals, especially psych wards..." Nicole took a shaky breath in, I could see this was hard for her.

I sat in silence, trying to comprehend how the fuck this could happen.

"She told me not to tell anyone Rocco," Nicole spoke in desperation, "but with that high dosage, she could have overdosed."

BRIELLA

Rafael went home around two hours ago, I've been trapped in my thoughts ever since. I was no longer sad or regretful for leaving Scar, seeing him made me realize, I done the right thing.

Let's get this straight, I didn't want to break up with Scar. Even after all the arguments, the pills and the tears. Now I know, it was the best thing I did. I'm not meant to be with him, he was my first love and sometimes, it fades. Slowly but surely.

I do still have a tiny bit of love for him but it's gradually forming into hate. There's a thin line between love and hate, and he's crossing it. When I was with him, I felt horrible. I still felt like the broken little girl from Illinois. And that's how he still sees me.

Rafael on the other hand, he sees me as a strong woman. He sees the capability I have, the love, the hurt. I always felt exhausted after spending my time with Scar, but with Raf, I feel energized. Ecstatic!

I don't want to be the one for Scar anymore. I want to be my own person.

~ two years ago ~

I sat in Scar's bedroom, we had just fought over how mean he was being to me. He pointed out all of my flaws, including my trauma. That's a huge trigger for me, I don't want people seeing my trauma, I want them to see me.

I started noticing a pattern in our arguments, he'd start a riot, go away for ten minutes then come back with water. He had always handed me the water, he never had a glass for himself....

What's going on?

I took the water and thanked him, he waited and watched me take a drink. When he left, I spat the drink back in the cup and pretended to sleep. Around twenty minutes later, he came in and got into bed.

I waited for thirty minutes until I went and investigated. I checked all of the cupboards in his kitchen, I then checked in the living room. Nothing. I couldn't find a thing.

I then went to his office, opening the drawers and even his computer. My heartbeat thumped in my chest, as if it was about to jump out.

I almost gave up, unable to find anything. I decided to give his desk drawers a second look. I slowly opened the first one, all it had was pens, papers and sticky notes.

The second drawer was a little more messy. Full of wires and documents. I skimped through them bit by bit, hoping to locate what I think he's doing. And with that, there was nothing there.

The third drawer. The drawer full of money, old documents and small coins. This time, I really took my time. I pulled out the documents and looked through every single page, just in the case that he's hidden it.

Once I was finished with that, I sat them on the floor and looked through the drawer again. I pulled it slightly more open, and a small pill bottle rolled down.

And that's what I needed to find. I quickly grabbed the bottle and read it.

Finding what I needed to see.

Xanax. Fucking Xanax!