Differences // NBAYBNK

4 (Trigger Warning)

MCINTYRE, T A Y M O R

Long story short we didn't do that fuck ass 40 hours. Now we're back in Suckworths office receiving a "stern talking to". I just wanna go home, well to Nick's house.

"Taymor are you even listening to me?! I'm trying to give you chances and you aren't listening."

"My fault. Continue." I straightened up and start trying to pay attention.

"So, like I was saying, in order to avoid expulsion, keep in mind that this is your last chance, you need to make a presentation."

"On what?" Nick asked obviously irritated.

"Glad you asked. I need you to do a project and presentation on the harmful and long-lasting effects of violence. You need to have it ready by the time of the annual stop the violence assembly. Failure to do so will result in y'all being kicked out. I don't give a fuck this time. Last chance."

I. Will not. Do it. I'm not doing this fuck ass presentation. If I get kicked out oh the fuck well.

"No." I got up and walked out. I've been looking for an excuse to stop going to school anyway.

"Taymor McIntyre come back or I'm calling your father." I simply ignored him.

"Tay!" I heard Nick call after me but I didn't go back. I don't care. I kept walking, even stopped to get a lil water.

"McIntyre are you out here?" I watched Nick wander around the front of the building before I let him know that I was on the side of it.

"Tay, why won't you do it?"

"I don't want to. I don't give a fuck about this shit Nick. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to repeat my senior year anyway."

"Tay, just do the project. I'll try to make it fun for you or something. But you gotta do it. Please."

I didn't give an immediate response. I just looked past him and contemplated it. Painfully familiar faces flashed in the corner of my eye. They were advancing towards me from the far end of the lot. Like all bad things, they came in three. My father, aunt, and uncle.

Taymor!

They called out to me but the name no longer felt like my own. My feet moved for me as I mindlessly ran through the woods. Effortlessly brushing past trees, the wind howling, numbing, and cold.

Taymor!

Numb, I felt numb. I could feel my body moving but I still felt stuck. Stuck against the side of the school building, stuck in the back seat of my friend's car, stuck under my bed. I was stuck in all of the places that I got so used to hiding behind. Stuck behind my gun and harsh persona that crumbled at the sound of their call.

Trevon!

Fear, I am afraid. I jumped over fallen branches and rocks. My lungs burned and my eyes watered but I couldn't risk being caught. They're sing-song tones told of their sadistic wishes and the more they called the more I felt. I felt my father's fist brutally pounding against my skin turning the chocolate shade purple. I felt the familiar sting and burn of my aunt's hot combs and curling irons against my stomach. Worst of all I felt his hands. I felt my uncle's hands trailing up my body and tracing every scar. I could feel his breath against my skin, the hot air fanning across. I could feel every grip and grab, every precursor to his sexual abuse. I could feel them all and it terrified me.

McIntyre hold on! Wait for me!

It's Nick, we were home, I was home. I watched him lock the door and the moment that his eyes connected with mine I broke. I became a mess of broken sobs and tears. My body shook as I tried so hard to escape the fear that plagued me. I focused on his oddly soft hands and slender fingers, that we're being used to wipe my tears and soothingly rub my back. I focused on his dreads and their varying length. His deep brown eyes were filled with concern and confusion. Slightly dry lips surrounded by perfectly clear skin. My finger slowly traced the tattoos that adorned his arms. My heartbeat slowed as I focused on his scent. A natural mix of something sweet and airy. Like coconuts and flowers mixed with the same fresh and salty aromas that surrounded a beach. A tropical scent that I easily found comfort in. I found comfort in Nick.