Trouble

Chapter Three

"What's broken can be mended. What's hurt can be
healed. No matter how dark it gets, the sun's gonna rise again."
- Dr. Meredith Grey
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Chapter Three
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I Will Shine For You

"Hey, Tessie. Wake up, their closing down now." I hear Mason whisper, I was still clinging to him. Lifting my head I smack it off his chin, he groans out and rubs his chin while I leaned my head back against his bare chest.

He had his arms wrapped around my waist and stood up, holding me to him, "What time is it?" I mumble, keeping my eyes closed. I haven't gotten sleep in so long it felt nice sleeping on Mason.

"3:30am, I gotta take you home." He whispered, brushing hair out of my face. It was strange, usually he'd snap or his voice would be so cold but right now - now he was being kind.

I whimper out, and mumble out my address. Not like my house would be hard to miss, it was an old Victorian styled home near the edge of the city, it wasn't on the upper side where all the other mansion were, my parents weren't all for being part of the community.

He drove up the driveway, the whole drive was silent as I leaned my head against the seat and watched him as he drove. Did that sound creep? I'm not trying - its just hard not to look at Mason Bishop.

Parking the car in front of the house he muttered something under his breath before hopping out and running around, lifting me back up into his arms and running up to the front steps, "Its unlocked," I mumble into his chest, he grunted and opened the door, closing it behind him.

I tell him where my bedroom was and he almost choked on his saliva when he pushed open my bedroom door. Earlier before I left I had a small mental break down, destroying almost everything in my room. I shattered two of my body mirrors and punched holes into my walls, ripping all my posters off the wall.

A few glasses broke as well as my book shelf that I had tipped over, "Tessa, what are you doing to yourself," Mason whispered, squeezing his arms tighter around me.

"I - I cant even l-look in the mirror w-without seeing her," I cried out, pouting my lip when I realized how childish I was acting. But I didn't care, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball with Mr. Ballington and die.

And who is Mr. Ballington? He is my large pink stuffed unicorn that Amara got me for our birthday a few years back. First thing I said to her was, "He's looks balling." As in a real gangster when Amara had tried to convince me that Mr. Ballington was a girl, I never believed her of course and she just went along with it.

God I missed her more than I miss my blueberry pancakes that I ate last week. God it was terrible, I ate twenty seven blueberry pancakes, than freaked out because I thought I was dying so I went to the emergency but when I got there they told me to go home and rest, saying something about me eating too much.

"Everything would be better if I had a big bag of skittles and no feelings." I whine, and I swear I saw Mason's lip tilt up a little. I swear you not. Get it? Cause I don't swear?

Or not, its cool. My family never understood my humor, than again they always said I was a little special. Amara even told me that when I was born I shot out a window and rolled into traffic, just missing an oncoming bus. I was a miracle baby. But I never really believed her because there's no busses around here.

Mason walked out of my bedroom and downstairs, he set me down on the couch, moving around until he found a blanket before draping it over me, "Where's you're parents?" He asked, sliding under me and draping my feet back over his lap.