Psychotic Us

~Chapter 1~

Every night is always the same story, I pass hours looking at my phone, waiting for the text, the text that will never arrive. He has already forgotten me, but I can't even imagine how my life was without him, he made me laugh again after months of deep sadness. And now it's like if he didn't exist, like if he was just a dream, our love just one of my fantasies. But, now I'm alone again, clueless with no idea on what I did wrong. What did I do to make him hate me, I just wasn't ready but he couldn't wait, he said that he would do everything for me but it wasn't true . He said that he didn't want to lose me, he said he didn't want a life without me, yet when I refused to go over to his house when his parents weren't home he flipped out on me, calling me a slutty prude, a virgin wannabe and more. He slapped me hard that night, a purple bruise was on my cheek for weeks. After that he just stopped caring, his feelings for me disappeared overnight. For a moment I thought he was different, that he really cared but now the problem is that I am completely unconditionally in love with him . It sucks when people make you think that you are part of their heart so you give them yours, but then they suddenly disappear, taking your heart with them. The message I was waiting for never arrived.

It was a cold winter night, my tight dress barely covering me. I was shivering and looking around for my very wasted best friends Dylan and Aria. My forest green eyes met with a pair of chocolate brown, eyes that one could get lost in, eyes that melted into mine. He walked towards me, a smirk plastered on his perfect face.

"Hey beautiful, the name's Tyler, Tyler Smith." His husky voice sending shivers down my spine as he winked at me flirtatiously.

I stuttered a bit before responding, my cheeks flushing not only from the sip of alcohol

"I'm Ashley Collins."

I put out my hand for him to shake and he chuckled as he took it and shook it.

A week slowly passed, depression had become my ally and anxiety my friend. I felt alone, as though no one would ever love me. All I could hear was Tyler and all I could see, the dark hole of my depression. As I was slumped over my History desk I looked at Tylers desk, the one where he always sat, next to him sat the school slut, Blair Anderson. She had milk chocolate hair, which gracefully cascaded down her back. Tyler twirled it with his fingers. Her deep ocean blue eyes were like pools of lust. The eyes Tyler was looking into with the same sexual glimpse in his eyes. Her honey skin flushed every time Tyler squeezed her thigh and seductively whispered in her ear. Watching them was impossible, it was as someone had ripped my heart out and threw it on the floor, then stomping on it till it gave out. I felt my eyes becoming glossy.

"Mrs. Archer, may I please go to the bathroom?"

She simply rolled her eyes at me and signaled to the door with her eyes nodding. I ran out of there as fast as i could, yet not fast enough. Blair's and Tyler's sniggering and comments didn't go unnoticed by me. I slammed the door of the bathrooms and locked myself in a stall, letting it all flow out. Tears were shed and words were said. The bathroom door slowly opened and the sound of fake designer heels were faintly heard. Chelsea Santoni strutted into the bathroom, her makeup purse clutched between her manicured fingers. Behind her walked in Brittany, her sleek black ankle boots clicking behind her. They both stood in front of the dirty mirror full of kiss marks from lipstick. I heard the slight popping noise of when you open lip gloss.

"Chels, that gloss is totes your color! It's like totes adorbs." Brittany's obnoxious voice shrilled.

"Shut up Brit! This is last season Fendi and I don't need the world to know that!" Chelsea's squeaky voice shrieked at Brittany.

All I could hear was silence and lip smacking. The mirror selfies they were taking had a light shutter click but aside from that nothing was heard.