His Broken Angel

Chapter Sixty-Two: Shut The Hell Up

A/N

It's weird that I'm feeling so tired right now and it's not even mine yet. Sad life when school comes in.

Please read, vote, comment, and enjoy!

And I also wanted to ask you guys if you could please comment if you want a sequel to this book. I'm not sure about making a sequel and I kinda need more opinions about that. So please comment telling me what you guys think.

Next Update: Thursday
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His Broken Angel

Chapter Sixty-Two: Shut The Hell Up

My stomach growled at me as I sat in class while I watched the teacher write notes on the board that didn't make any sense to me. At one point I started writing it all down and freaked because she started writing more notes.

I threw my book in my locker while groaning. Last night I had fallen asleep at two in the morning. Not the best idea I've had.

Reason: I stayed up watching reruns of Criminal Minds.

"Hi Sweetheart," he whispered in my ear while wrapping his arms around my waist. A small smile appeared on my lips before I put a small peck on his.

A sigh escaped my lips while I rested my head on his shoulder. He knew I was tired. "This is why you fall asleep early and not watching a show until two am," he mocked.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't baby me."

"So you guys are finally official," Maddie said while sitting down beside me. Matt leaned against her as he ate some of her fries off her plate.

"Yes," I mumbled.

From the corner of my eye I could see Bridget glaring at us. Even in my happiest and tiring mood she still managed to ruin my mood with her glares. Couldn't she just leave me alone and live my life peacefully? Wasn't making my life a living hell in middle school enough?

Guess not.

Once the bell rang I hurried to my locker to put my books away so I could meet up with Reese since he had practice after school. Right when I was about to close my locker it slammed right in front of me, my finger an inch away from it.

"What the hell?" I muttered.

Bridget leaned against my locker with a lollipop in between her lips. It had stained them and turned them into a bright red. The bitch was sucking blood after all

"What do you want?" I sighed.

"Why is Reese back with you?"

A small laugh escaped me. "I already told you, he loves me. Didn't it stick to that brain of yours?"

"I still don't see-"

"Why he loves me? Bridget, just shut up. Seriously. This whole thing is getting old. You trying to hurt me with words isn't going to work anymore. And face it, Reese loves me and not you."

I turned around to walk to the PE field when she grabbed my arm and yanked me towards her. Her nails dug into my arm as I winced. "You think I haven't thought of new ways to hurt you," she sneered.

Her nails dug deeper into my flesh. "Tell me something, Maggs. How does it feel when you cut? When you glide that razor into your skin. Does it feel good? Does it make you feel better?"

She stepped closer to me. I could feel a cut opening in my arm.

"I doubt Reese would love those scars on you. He may say nice things about them, say that they're beautiful and that he doesn't care. Trust me, anyone looking at those scars would be disgusted."

Hot tears burned my eyes. When Bridget's grip on me finally loosened I ran out the door, my backpack hitting my back hard as I ran down the street. My arm stung like hell as I made my way up our porch and inside before I ran to my room, locking myself in there.

I went to my bathroom and stripped myself naked, turning on the hot water as I sat in it. My head laid on my knees with my arms crossed over them.

My arm had blood running down it until I heard a knock at my door. "Maggs? Hon, open up! It's Claire!"

My eyes grew wide. I couldn't let her see me like this. I stood up and grabbed a towel from a shelf before drying myself off. With an old robe that I threw on, I opened the door to not only see her but Reese standing beside her.

Panic rose inside my throat.

"I'll leave you two alone." She left. She left me with Reese staring at my arm that had blood running down it.

"What the hell happened?" He didn't sound angry, but a little upset.

Reese pulled the sleeve of the robe up and saw the three scratch marks, blood indented in them. His grip on my arm tightened before letting it go and shutting the door behind him.

I sat on my bed as he took some running alcohol and dabbed it against my opened flesh. "Ow," I winced.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

After he was done wrapping the gauze around the cut, he sat beside me before I laid my head on his shoulder.

"Who did it?" he finally asked.

I sighed. "Reese-"

"Tell me. I'm not going to do anything to the person."

Even if he said he wouldn' I knew he would.

"I'm not saying anything. . ." I stood up and walked to my closet to get out some clothes to sleep in. "It doesn't matter."

"You don't do this to yourself right?"

I didn't take the question so easily.

"Of course not! I haven't cut myself in a while if you haven't noticed," I barked.

My hands curled into fists. I went inside the bathroom to put some panties and sweats on before coming out and pulling the robe above my belly button. "See. No new ones. Happy?"

I put the robe back down and went to pick out a bra and tee. "Look I'm just making sure. I don't want you hurting yourself-"

"Well I haven't been. Trust me, if I did I would feel like crap the whole time." Not that I don't feel like crap right now. "Can you just trust me?"

"I do, but you've been doing this for a while. You can do it anytime. . ."

I heard the sadness wash over his tone. Once I was done putting on my bra and tee in the bathroom I sat beside him on my bed and kissed him. He didn't kiss me back for a few seconds until his hand pressed against my back. Once we parted away I smiled and whispered, "I won't anymore."

The lie made me feel guilty. I wanted to take it back and say that I needed help, but I didn't have the energy or braveness to do it. I didn't want to lose Reese, not after all of this.

I didn't want him thinking that I would be lying forever, but that would only be prevented if I stopped lying.

I wanted to scream at that moment. What kind of girlfriend was I?