Playing With Fire (slow updates!)

Chapter 6

Violets POV

I woke up with the worst pounding headache I had ever had. The smell of alcohol still present in my room from the night before making me gag. The sun shone through a gap in my curtains making my eyes ache. I quickly sat up and pulled them so that darkness would once again over take my room. As I went to turn over to go back to sleep I almost screamed.

Suddenly memories of the night before flashed through my head. Patrick had brought me home when I got to drunk, we had kissed, no not just kissed, we did much more then that. I stared at his sleeping body wide eyed, unsure of what to do. "Holy shit" I whispered mentally beating myself up. In a panic I crawled down to the end of my bed and got up. I quickly sprinted around gathering my clothing and throwing it on. I exited my room, closing the door as quietly as I could so he wouldn't hear me leaving.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god" I whisper yelled as I raced down the stairs and out the front door. I needed air, I needed to think. I tried to smooth my hair down with my hand as best I could just Incase someone were to see me. I wanted to punch myself in the face, what an idiot. What's wrong with you! What's wrong with you! What's wrong with you! I slept with one of my brothers best friends, not to mention the one that's literally insane. Plus Patrick had probably slept with tons of girl, I was just another tic mark on his list of sluts that he'd banged.

I felt a hot tear slip down my cheek. I was so embarrassed, he had seen me naked. I had exposed myself to him and now he was probably going to tell everyone how disgusting my body was, how repulsed he was while fucking me. I let out a sob and sat down on the curb. What was I going to do now? Beg him to keep his mouth shut? Threaten him? Off myself? I couldn't even think straight.

After a while of sitting there I decided I needed to confront him. I got up, straighten out my clothes and wiped my tear stained face before heading back to my house. Hesitantly I pushed the front door open and walked inside. My shaky legs carried me up the stairs and to my bedroom door where I stood for what seemed like hours. Finally I got the courage to turn the handle and walk inside. When I entered the room there was no one to be found. My bed had been remade neatly and everything that had been messed up when I left was now in its rightful place.

Shit, he was gone. What the hell was I going to do now. I walked over to my bed and flopped down against my mattress face first before beginning another crying session. I though about calling him, walking to his house but both seemed like bad ideas, so I just laid there crying until my exhausted body finally fell asleep. All I could do now was pray he wouldn't tell anyone tomorrow at school. God help me.