Drugs, Sex and Scandals (H.S fanfiction)

Chapter 1.

       

I watched aimlessly as they lowered her beautiful white casket into the ground. She had been the most important person in my life for the past year. My rock. My everything. She was my reason for living and now she is gone, but I'm glad. Watching the last important member of my family fade away to nothingness, into the ground is one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. I stand amongst people three times my age cry as she is lowered and yet I feel nothing. His blue-green eyes catch mine from across the service and they pierce deeply through me as if he is searching for the last bit of my soul, little does he know that the last piece of me died with my grandmother.

The drive to the wake was mostly silent apart from the tunes playing through the stereo. Scott turned off the engine after we pulled into my grandmother's driveway. He waited for me as I shut the car door, and he reached for my hand which I denied. I walked straight past him and into my dead grandmother's house, I didn't have to look behind me to know that he was there.

I stood alone by the kitchen sink as the guests from the funeral walked around my house parading condolences as if this was some childish carnival. I sipped on my cherry wine, as Scott came into my view, I walked towards him and ran my hands up his chest and then back down his arms, clinging to his hands. I began to pull him towards my room, surprising this caught none of the guest's attentions. "What are you doing?" he questioned, his thick Australian accent sounding dominating.

"Come with me, I need to talk to you," I muttered pulling him behind me, towards my bedroom.

Scott shut the door behind him, and turned to face me, "What did you want to talk about, baby?" my body tensed at the cliché pet name. I am not anyone's pet.

I ignored his question and pushed him against the door, pressing my lips against his. It was rough and sloppy. He held my face between his hands and I tried to unzip his jeans. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice strained.

"What does it look like?" I laughed, pressing my body harder against his so that I could reach his lips better.

He moved his hands from my cheeks to my shoulders and gently pushed my body away from his. "Stop," he whispered, "You don't want this."

"How do you know what I do and don't want?" I laughed, "If I didn't want this I wouldn't be doing it."

"Your grandmother just died Braelynn," he said, "You aren't in the right state of mind."

"I am an adult Scott, I don't need your approval," I said, running my hands through my hair and turning away from him.

"I care about you, babe," he said grabbing my hand and turning me to face him, "I want you to be happy, with me."

"You have a wife, Scott," I replied bluntly.

"I will leave her, I want you to live with me," he said, grabbing my hand again.

"You don't get it Scott," I said, pulling away from his reach. "You are nothing but a casual fuck to pass my time. You are my grandmother's nurse, how can you honestly believe you are anything more." He stood quietly in front of me, "Besides, I'm going back to England."

"Are you fucking serious?!" He yelled, "I was willing to leave my wife for you and now you are leaving me. Well no! I won't let you do this!"

"I don't give a fuck about what you want Scott, you can leave your wife, but don't you dare blame me for it." I yelled matching his tone.

I watched him slam the bedroom door behind him as he left. I prayed to whatever piece of shit there is up there, that I would never see that jerk again.

I laid on my bed and looked up at the ceiling, I could really do with a fatherly hug right now, but he isn't here and neither is my brother.

Roughly a year ago, my mother left my father without a word to anyone about where she was going. A few weeks later my father realized he couldn't handle living his life without her so we planned to leave and move back to Australia with my grandmother. The night of our flight, on our pursuit to the airport we were run off the road by a drunk driver. My dad died on impact and my brother died in the ambulance as we arrived at the hospital. I woke up a few days later to be met with my grandmothers caring blue eyes.

She had flown from Australia to London where my father journeyed after her met my mother before we were born. Gran returned to Australia while my best friend and neighbour practically lived with me at my house. A year after my world crumbled through the death of my family, I received a phone call from my grandmother. She was sick again and this time her chances weren't good. I left a note for my friend saying that I was sorry and I had to leave and that I would call him when I had a chance to... though I never did. I packed the bare essentials and caught the first plane to Australia to be with Gran.

I never bothered to call my friend because to be honest I didn't have the time, and I didn't know how long I would be gone for.

Now here I am 2 years after my father and brother died and I am completely lost. The only thing that makes sense is returning to England, my birthplace.