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REN'S POV

I step into my apartment, the smell of lingering cigarette smoke calming me. Feeling anxious, I grab the box of smokes on the table hurriedly, sticking one in my mouth.

I take the lighter out of my jacket pocket to light it quickly, needing the hit. I inhale the smoke, already feeling it's effect as it calms me down.

I sit back on the couch, breathing out the smoke and I watch it swirl in front of me. I relax into the cushions, tears sliding down the sides of my face as I stare at the old fan hanging by a couple screws in the ceiling. This place is so old however it's affordable, considering my budget.

I feel the smoke fill up my lungs, remembering the time I started smoking three years ago. I was in a pretty dark place and the only thing that relaxed me was lighting up a cigarette. Now, I'm addicted.

My hand absentmindedly swipes the side of my neck and I wince. I breathe out the smoke and rush to the bathroom mirror to see what the hell that asshole did to me.

I stand in front of the mirror, the cigarette in between my lips and I dart my eyes to my neck. With the collar of my jacket in the way, I push it off and observe the two purple bruises Tyler gave me. I cringe.

This is not a sign of affection, what the hell was I thinking? How could I let him do this to me?

I bring my fingers to the sensitive skin again, pressing down and I gasp with pain. I hate him. No, I hate myself for getting into the situation in the first place.

My eyes connect with my reflection and I stare at my tear stained cheeks, tinted black due to the runny mascara. I put out the cigarette in the ash tray that lies on the countertop before rubbing my palms into my eyes.

I move my hands away and groan. I just smeared the mascara more. 

I take notice of my bony face, the fear that screams in my eyes and the way my fingers are trembling. The more I stare at myself, the more upset I feel and a sob passes my lips.

I'm still in disbelief of what had occurred at Tyler's apartment. To be honest, I'm more in disbelief of how stupid I am for believing I could trust him.

My trembling hands turn on the tap and I splash water on my face to clean up the mascara. Then I strip off my clothes, throwing them carelessly on the tiled floor before jumping into the shower.

Hot water splashes on my skin and I feel the sting though I'm not focused on it. I'm more focused on how disgusting I feel. 

My body was abused by Tyler for his own pleasure needs. He would've tossed me aside as soon as he got what he wanted. God, I'm so glad I didn't give him that.

A frustrated sigh escapes my lips as I grab my loofah and scrub every inch of my body with shower lotion. I want to scrub the skin where he kissed and sucked carelessly and wash away the reminder of how he touched me.

As the water runs down my body, I can still feel the painful grasp of his hands on my waist and the way he trapped my hands over my head. I felt so powerless, weak and vulnerable. Just like before...

Don't think about it, Ren.

Once I dry myself with a towel, I pull on my fishnet stockings, covering them with my ripped jeans. I throw on an oversized shirt and wear my loose denim jacket.

I roll my eyes as I stare at my outfit in the mirror. Trust me to dress like every other girl in the fucking world. I hate that I love this style.

I pull on my vans. I need fresh air. I need to clear my head and reassess the person I am. I want to start the new year fresh.

I don't to carry my past around and be ashamed of who I am. I want to evolve as a person this new year and trust the right people. 

I want to find someone who will help me overcome my problems. Someone better than Tyler and all the other guys in my life who just stepped all over me.

I shove a pack of smokes and my lighter in my pocket and I leave my apartment, heading up the elevator to reach the rooftop, my favourite place to be alone with my thoughts.

As I expected, the rooftop is empty considering everyone in this building is either partying or gathering in Times Square for the ball to drop.

I settle on one of the dingy garden chairs at the edge of the building and rest my feet on the small wall, surrounding the rooftop.

I didn't think I'd be spending New Year's Eve up here. I thought I'd be lying naked in Tyler's bed, filled with regret. Things change fast.

the rooftop / g.dWhere stories live. Discover now