Black Rose

53.

My body trembled underneath him. "Then kill me," I murmured. "Kill me now."

"I'd rather kill that baby. Why would I want a girl? She can end up just like you." His eyes pierced into mine. No emotions could be read on his face. Although he showed no emotions I knew he felt angry. Isn't he always? "Weak, inferior, beautiful, and book smart. Or maybe she'll be taken by the state because she has two people unfit to be parents. Or maybe she'll tragically kill herself because she won't be able to cope with the fact her parents are coke heads?"

My tears dried up in an instant as I glared at Alexander. "You're fucking sick!" I screamed, pushing him into the dresser.

"Then get out." He spoke slowly. "Nobody holding you against your will. All you do is complain; if you wanna leave then leave!"

"Oh, but you're the one who held me gun point until I agreed to leave rehab with you. But nobody's holding me against my will? Okay." I snapped.

Alex took a few steps back and motioned towards the door with his arms, as if he were leading the path for me.

"Go."

It felt as if my feet were nailed to the wooden floor. I couldn't get my legs to carry me out of the door now that I had the permission to. Is it because I didn't really have the consent to leave? Or do I really not want to leave?

I'm talking crazy.. of course I want to leave! I didn't want to come here in the first place.

I finally gained the confidence to take the nails out of my feet and saunter out of the room. Bypassing the staircase, I entered the room that was dedicated to my old writing. Inside the room was most of my belongings since I refused to sleep in the same room as Alexander.

As I dropped to my knees to gather my belongings, his skull tattooed hand gripped my forearm tightly. Gulping, I slowly gazed up at him through my eyelashes. My heart didn't even flutter while staring at him.

Alex shook his head. "Nah, get out."

"Let me get my belongings at least..."

"You want a divorce, right? Then we gon' act like a divorced couple. I bought everything you have, you ain't taking shit I bought." He stated.

My lips were parted as my mouth hung agape. I blinked a few times, hoping this was just a dream. But it wasn't. This was reality.

This was my reality.

"Really?" I was in complete shock. That was the only emotion my brain could process at this moment. Standing up, I muttered, "you're a lot nicer when you're high."

He didn't say a word. He didn't even follow me as I left the house and slammed the door shut.

How exactly will I leave if this house is in the middle of nowhere? He sold "my" car while I was in rehab.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I realized I would have a long walking journey ahead of me. My back and feet will be aching, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?

Breathing heavily, I quickly sat up in bed covered in sweat. Tears streamed down my face, but I wasn't sure why so I didn't bother to wipe them. Since I officially left two, almost three, months ago, I've been having dreams of our final moments together. Every night I had to endure the nightmares and relive the moments.