Molly What's Your Secret?

Part 6

Woot woot here we go! Keep in mind this isn't proof read... don't judge me haha.

Quote of the night fits a bit with this part.

"Sometimes I get so sad, so sad that I completely shut down. I stare blankly at the wall and it doesn't matter what you say to me. Because in that moment I don't exist." -Unknown

Molly's P.O.V

There was a dull pain in the pit of my gut that woke me. My stomach felt like I had swallowed a bag of rock salt and it was eating away at me. I was forgetting something. I rolled over landing on my side. The pain that reared up was intense and sharply pointed like a steak knife. I hissed through my teeth recognizing for the first time that the bed I laid on wasn't mine.

Where the hell was I? I was going to be in so much trouble!  What was I going to say to my dad? The thought of him had my heart shuttering in my chest. I inhaled deeply. One problem at a time, I told myself. I looked around searching for Brandie, thinking I had to be in one of the guest rooms at her house.

The guy sleeping in the recliner in the corner was a big tip that I wasn't at Brandie's house. He looked familiar. I knew him didn't I? My head hurt so freaking bad. I pressed my hands to my forehead trying to stop the flow of thoughts and pain. Things started to rush back. Event after event raced across my brain in circles like water going down a drain. Blow after blow. The party, the guy in the corner, the kiss, and... my dad. Had the guy in the corner seen everything?

I sighed and looked down at my clothes relieved to see that I was still in my clothes from yesterday albeit a bit bloodier. Someone however had removed my sneakers in the night. I tried not to think about how that felt. How it felt to have someone take care of me.

I crawled to the end of the bed with my breath held. What was I going to say if I woke him up? How awkward was that going to be? I didn't even know how to explain everything away. I reached for my shoes, if I could just get to them I could try to find my way out and put them on outside. Where was I going to go once I did get out? Back to Brandie's? How was I going to explain leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone?

I stopped dead when I thought about my dad again. There was definitely no way I could go back there. Even if he would let me back in I didn't want to go back...ever. My heart knew the answer knew the answer that my brain was screaming. My hand had been dealt and now all I could do was play the cards I had. I could go home, I couldn't stay here, and if I was really being honest with myself there was no way Brandie's parents could take me in. I was too dangerous to begin with I couldn't trust myself around them for long periods of time. Someone might get hurt. And I was nothing but a burden.

I couldn't breathe now. My chest felt like someone had parked a cement truck on it and the cement was slowly falling out and running down my dry throat to pool in my lungs and harden. I couldn't do this my life was over. There was nothing left in me to deal with this. I wanted to die, I felt like I was going to at least. I was starting to see spots like someone had dripped black ink into my eyes. I tried to blink the ink away, to breathe through the cement.

I barely registered the pressure on my arms as someone picked my up. I didn't care. There wasn't anything that could be done now. I was finally going to get what I deserved.

"Shh. Please it's OK. Breathe! What's wrong?" Someone growled desperately. In the back on my head I wanted to reach out and tell them not to worry that everything was OK but I couldn't move the cement was everywhere now, in my arms, my stomach, my legs. I tried to gulp at the air around me with out success. Someone started rubbing my arms quickly causing friction. I registered the flicks of what felt like a sparkler being dragged up and down my arms. It gave me something else to focus on. The tingling traveled everywhere those hands went. In my mind I followed those hands starting at my wrists where I briefly felt long fingers circle them. These remarkable hands made their way up to my elbows, then they were at my shoulders where I felt the slightest pressure like a comforting squeeze. Then it was back down again to start over. I counted every repetition, savoring every spark.