V. "Are you trying to give me blue balls?"

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V.

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I walked into his house with my bag on my shoulder.

"The bathroom is upstairs two doors down on the left. Let me know when you're finish and I'll bring you some clothes to change into." he said as he went down a hallway.

I nodded and made my way up the stairs and down the hallway, into the bathroom. I closed the door and threw my bag on top of the toilet that sat on the wall next to a huge sink and frame-less mirror. The bathroom was simple. It sort of reminded me of my own back at home, just a fancier version.

I turned the shower on before I began to undress. I hate to even look at myself in the mirror, afraid of the bruises that might be there. I slowly inched my way to it, flinching when I saw the purple bruises on my skin.

What could drive someone to the point of hurting another person for no reason? I did nothing to deserve the torture I've endured. Why am I so hated? All I ever did was breathe and I seem to be the cause to everyone's problems. Everyone I ever loved has just turned on me and shut me out.

I wiped the tear that had fell from my eye and turned away from the mirror as I stepped into the shower. I let the steaming water hit my skin as I washed away all the bad thoughts and memories hoping for once they would never return. People say the best time to cry is in the shower and that's exactly what I plan to do.

I bathe myself slowly as tear after tear spilled onto my face. I'm not the type to cry all the time, I rather hold it all in and forget it ever happened. I rather let go to avoid caving in. It's not healthy, but it's what I've learn to adapt to.

People don't want to hear about your problems, no matter if they ask you to talk about them. They all are just going to say the same thing. "It'll get better." I've been waiting on it to get better since I was 5. Then they follow up with, "it might not get better at an instance. It can happen today, tomorrow, two weeks from now..." It's all just a bunch of bullshit. People don't care, they'll say anything to make you smile and forget. I need someone to be real with me.

I need someone that's gonna tell me when I'm in wrong. I need someone that doesn't say the same shit over and over again. I need someone REAL.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Danny? You alright?"

It was Chance. He must've heard me crying. I knew once I stepped out of this bathroom he was going to smother me with questions and that will probably end with another fight. He's such an easily angered person. I am, too, but it's scary when he does it. When he's angry he looks as if he could kill anyone who crossed his path.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." I responded, praying that my voice wouldn't crack.

I heard him walk away from the door as I turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping myself in a big white fluffy towel from the rack that sat above the toilet.

I looked in the mirror and saw that my hair was a huge puffy mess. I grabbed my bag and pulled out my wide tooth comb. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and began sectioning off medium sized pieces of my hair and twisting them. My hair reached to about my waist when blow dried, but I rarely straightened my hair. I liked it better naturally curly.

Once I was finished, I pulled all the twists into a ponytail. I grabbed my dirty clothes from the floor and folded them before placing them into my semi-empty bag. I made sure I left everything as it was and re-wrapped the towel around me securely just so it wouldn't fall.

I opened the door of the bathroom and stepped into the hallway. Steam poured out of the bathroom as I walked down the stairs to find Chance.

"Chance!" I called out. I walked down a hallway and walked into a room that I suspected was the living room. It was empty so I continued walking and I soon found the kitchen which was also empty.

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