I took a shower and sat in front of the mirror, wrapped in the rob with wet hair, water droplets are still on my forehead. With the quick movements of my hands, I wipe them and study my face. You can clearly read how broken I am. That I've been through hell, but I'm not sure if I am still in it. Do you know that phase between hell and going back from it? Well, I feel like I'm not back. Like I'm stuck in hell. And that happened three years ago. For three years I've been stuck in hell without any options to leave that miserable and torturous place.
Now the question is how did I allow one boy to broke me like that? To take off that mask I put on my face when I decided to kill my emotions? How did I allow myself to take it off and show him how my real face looks like? How did I allow him to deceive me? Why I got blinded by the pain in his eyes, just like I did with Christopher's.
Christopher and Michael. There I said their names. The names of the boys who broke me.
Both of them participated in the competition called who can ruin Stella more. And they are both winners, including my mom and that man. They all appeared in the worst moments of my life and made them even worse though I thought that wasn't possible. Looks like it was. Every time I think that I'm in my worst, the devil sends his demons to punch me that it's gonna make my life even worse, to make me regret saying how my life is bad when obviously it can be worse. They always prove me wrong. But do you know what is the point with demons? They actually exist in the real world. Most of the people are demons, but blind to see who their ruler is. The devil himself. Their intentions, behavior, and actions are moves that the devil first allows, moving them like puppets on the string and they aren't aware of those strings, thinking that behind their actions lay destiny and God. God doesn't exist. It's only Devil.
Angel or angels on the other hand are just a fairytale or myth. While the demons, an army of the red ruler exists, the angels are just the legend where the good people try to expel the evil from the others. Let me tell you a short story.
When those so-called angels realized that the evil couldn't leave some people, no matter how hard they tried and what kind of methods they used (read witch powers and all that shit) then they tried to make those people leave the town. But as they tried to make them leave, they became evil themselves. And they couldn't leave just like that. Slowly the world became eviler and eviler, the good people vanished. Those angels no longer exist and are now in the shape of demons. And here we are, in present, living surrounded by evil, like in a castle with massive walls which no one can break. We are imprisoned and slowly dying from evil, but that is exactly what the devil wants. He wants more victims, so he can corrupt them and make them disappear from the world (where there's a chance for them to leave him and run to goodness) and then make his army out of them.
Looks like I believe in supernatural creatures or some shit. Okay, let's try to think straight. How many good people do you know? Exactly. And how many bad ones do you know? Exactly. You can't even count them all, not to mention that you didn't even meet all of them. But still, the amount of those people surrounding you is enormous. I know. Trust me I know. But what are we gonna do about them? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that is exactly what I'm going to do as well.
But you are probably going to say, wait, Stella what about Myles and Chloe? Yeah, well they are the souls that managed to escape from the evil and are wandering through this cruel world, completely confused, trying not to see only black. Just look how much they suffered. Too much. Both of them. Still are suffering. And it's just a matter of time when they are going to realize that there is no point in being good, in this kind of toxic world. Just like I realized.
I tried to come back to being good, but now I'm lost forever. I'm not coming back anymore. Devil finally managed to grab my soul and mark it as his. I'm his servant now. Trust me, devil, I'm not gonna leave you any time soon, you are my family now. The only one I have left with all your sons and daughters demons.
I quickly blow-dry my hair that is the longest I've ever had. I leave it straight since I'm too lazy to curl it. Honestly, I don't even care about how I look right now. But I'm not gonna let other evil people see how they killed me and made me a zombie, with the dead heart (unfortunately not with the dead brain, but with the alive body).
Do you know that I want to throw all of these make-up products and again break the mirror which you must be asking where did it come from? Well, Myles borrowed me. Yeah, the nice guy, one and probably the only from exterminated kind of nice guys with good intentions, and not twisted and hurtful ones like his brother have.
Now, this mirror helps me in making a broken girl look like a non-broken one. And all that with an enormous amount of make-up. Foundation to cover my imperfect skin and pimples. Concealer to hide my redness and of course huge dark bags under my eyes. I struggle with this because my red eyes can tell you that I was crying last night without a pause. Blush to make my pale cheeks look like a healthy and not ill one. What more? Oh, lipstick. Which one? Pink? Yes, to match my dried and blossoming locks that desperately need a haircut. Mascara! Yeah, I almost forgot! Applied. Eyeshadow? No, too lazy for that. Eyebrows? Well, I have natural ones unlike other girls, so why bother with that, too. Highlight? Yeah a little bit, so I can shine while my eyes hold none of the glow that it's killed. Am I done? Guess so.
Do I look a little bit better with all this falsehood that is trying to cover the sadness on my face ruined from all the crying? Do I look a little less broken? Well, no. Do I feel prettier? No. I feel like the ugliest person in the world. The dirtiest one even if I take a shower twice in a day and I always remember his touches on my skin and they can never leave, making it dirtier each time I touch it and rub it in order to clean them, but they linger along with the redness of my aggressive scrubbing. But my skin holds the touches from the other guy that broke me as well, and they make my heart flutter and ache at the same time.
I want to hate him. To curse him for breaking me again and lying to me that we can heal each other when clearly that's not true. But, I can't. I still love him with all my shattered heart. With every single little piece of it, no matter where it is or if it is trampled, I love him. And that is the worst part of all this pain. I love the man who broke me.
Now I'm ready to go to the party, and hopefully, forget him, and the other one who also participated in breaking my heart and whole life with only their evil and selfish decisions. Because we learned until now that people are selfish, isn't that right, my readers? Please, don't forget that. And of course, include yourself. Don't forget that, too. You aren't perfect. You are a human who makes mistakes no matter if you are in the army of the Devil or the fairytale's one, if they exist (except the two angels who are thankfully, both in my life and I hope won't leave me and switch into the Devil's army). Just whatever you do, don't forget to act selfless, even though I know that is so hard.
It's better for me to leave now, before Myles comes back and forbids me to go there, thinking that alcohol can't make me feel better. Yeah, it may can't, but it's worth trying. Something needs to erase this sorrow and now that it isn't time. Time will only make it bitter, like with my mother. Making me hesitate between hate and love. And I want to hate Michael as well, but I perfectly know that I can't at least not now. And I can't hate her either. I always want to hate everyone, but I never realized that I was the angel, who tried so bad to escape from her homeland in order to become the Devil's servant, so she can forget all the pain that she feels and erase the sorrow and sadness which ate her alive. I was expelled from my homeland by other angels who thought that I couldn't be saved just like in the story that I told you beforehand. And Devil's home seems to accept her better than her native one.
I have just finished distributing our employees with supplies. I hate doing that. I hate that I am involved with this illegal job and that I can very easily end up in a place where my brother ended up because he had hurt me.
But what can I say, I do not really have any options since I am living under the roof of the drug dealer, who is simultaneously my boss. I would do anything to work at the normal place for example at a café like some of my peers and to serve people with beverages and be polite so I can make their day a little bit better or if not just lift their energy with coffee. Here, that is my dream. To live like a normal teenager. To do what other teenagers do.
But still, a lot of them are involved with illegal things, not realizing how lucky they are to have a choice. But their choice is to be in the gangs because they want to be rebellious, so they think joining the gang is just for fun and looking mysterious and intimidating in front of their friends when actually is a lot more than that. Just later, when it is too late, they realize that they have made the biggest mistake of their life. Because soon they become aware that this circle never ends, never let them alone, never let them leave it- once in a gang, always in a gang.
But you correct me, my dear diary, I know you will. What happened to Michael? Michael Henson, the boy who hurt the girl you love and for whom you are willing to do everything? EVERYTHING.
Scott just forbade him to come back. He said that he was bad news and he did not need that son of a bitch, because he has heard about his famous father and he is afraid that his gang would be ruined and he would be in prison if Michael's father found out about it. So, he intends to keep him away from the gang. He is so proud of the money he earns and the job he has been doing for a while now, to let one rebellious boy who wants to defy his rich daddy blow it all. More than two years, actually. And I am stuck with him for more years that are coming. I can just secretly hope that someone will discover his forbidden and illegal actions and report him for beating us sometimes multiple times on a day. I really hope that one day this hell is going to be over.
I reach for my phone, which is broken because it accidentally slipped from my hands. Now I have to pray that it is going to work because I know that Scott will never give his precious, or should I say dirty money for my new phone. No, he would say something: You broke it, bastard, you buy it.
Not to mention that I do not get paid for the job I do, for helping him to keep an eye on the younger dealers. Because there are younger ones than me, believe it or not.
But you, my diary, know everything because I keep complaining. No, I will stop doing that because I do not get anything from that. I can only hope. Hope is the only thing that has been left to me. I have to hope even when it seems like there is no more chance for good things to happen, because if we do not hope, then what is the point? I will hope until the very end.
I see that it is six past thirty on my phone since I see neither darkness neither light from this warehouse. My thoughts start to wander to Stella. I sent her a bunch of messages before I started working because once I start working I can no longer use a phone or I will be killed by Scott. Maybe I should text Chloe? But she would never listen to me over her best friend. And what can I tell her?
I would have to tell her the real reason why I want Stella to stay at home. Then, I would have to tell her the painful truth that only Stella has a right to speak about. I will not do that. But what if something happens to Stella? What if alcohol makes her already unsteady health condition even worse? No, Myles, alcohol will do nothing to her. She is even going to smile, the thing she cannot do most of the time.
No, that is just permanent. Alcohol is really harmful, it can make you happy for some time, but eventually, it will ruin your health, liver, and other organs and possibly kill you. And, I do not want Stella to die just because she is mourning. No, I can help her. Though, I do not seem to convince her to visit the psychiatrist, because I believe they can help her. She could maybe tell them about her mom and the nightmares that she is dealing with almost every night, which must exhaust her so much, even though she would never admit that they do. I know that the thing her mom did, has still been haunting her and I just want her to get rid of that awful memory that replays in her head each time she sees that red liquid. But since she does not want to visit them and I am here helpless, I am really scared and worried about how she is going to deal with those things that keep killing her mental health, which she does not care about just like she does not care about her physical one.
I hate that I cannot help her. I hate that so much. I want to see her happy. She deserves it more than anyone. She is too pure. And she is hurt from a young age, just like me. But this is not about me. I can suffer and I can stand and bear a lot of pain, I am used to it. But she... She is so fragile and I can literally see her broken pieces shattered on the floor, falling with each move she makes while she does not bother to turn and collect them. So I do it for her. But each time I rush to collect and put them together, she stops me. I do not know why. I want to help her. I really do. But I am not professional and my help maybe is not enough for her.
Though, I am happy that the two of them- Chloe and Stella- have found each other. That Stella has some friend who cares for her. But I am also aware that she keeps secrets from her as well, unfortunately. She does not tell people her fears, her pain, and the way she suffers. She is embarrassed about all of that. Embarrassed of feeling, of showing them, scared that she will look pathetic if she admits what lays on her heart. I do not know why she feels like that about the emotions. But I just want to tell her that she does not have to suffer alone in the dark. And I hope that Chloe can help her and that after some time Stella is going to tell her what scares her and quit torturing herself in the darkest nights, which I know she spends with wide-opened eyes.
Chloe was hiding her secret, her abusive one, suffering alone as well in the dark. Seems like all of us have some secret that no one would ever guess. And we all hide them either to protect others or to keep our pain for ourselves, scared that other people would see us differently once they found out the painful truth that was harming us for so long. Scared that they would pity us. And none of us want pity. We need, no we long for understanding. And just like that, Stella does not believe in people. She always sees the worst in people, while I on the other hand always see the good in them.
We are like opposites but in this case, not the ones who attract. Unfortunately, I do not attract her. It is the boy who broke her little already broken heart, who did not treat her the way I would do. Better. I would keep her as a rose under the glass bell. And even if she does not love me the way I love her, I will still care about her. Like about the rose I do not want to wither.
I open messages and type Chloe's number. What to write? Listen, Chloe, you cannot let Stella come to that party because it will do her more harm than good. No, definitely not. I type the first thing that comes to my mind, but I am quickly interrupted when someone barks at me.
"Bastard, leave that phone!" I recognize the voice as Scott's.
"Please, I have to send a text. It is important it will not be long", I beg the predator in front of me.
"No!", he yelps, grabbing the phone from my hands. "Oh, you broke it", he chuckles when he glances at the screen of the phone. "Just to tell you, don't you dare ask me for a new one. You broke it, you buy it."
See? I told you. But with what money to buy it? If I was bold like Chris I would confront him. But I would probably end up just like him, every time he tried to stood up, beaten, and covered with blood. And thank God, today I have not gotten the punch. Yet. And I intend on ending this day without any.
"Please, Scott it is important..." I do not get a chance to finish the sentence.
"No! Say no more!" His hand comes near my cheek as a threat. I shut my eyes and gulp, expecting the punch, but it never comes. I open them, timidly to see him leaving with my phone in his hands.
Great. Just great. It is your fault, Myles that you did not do it earlier. What have you been waiting for, anyway?
Yeah, I know. It is my fault, you are right. But I cannot mourn over that now. I can only hope and pray. Pray for Stella not to go to that party, and that she is going to be okay if she decides to go. Pray for the girl I love to be okay. And she will, I believe.
NOTE: I feel like this chapter was so boring since it was barely any dialogue, but I wanted for you to see more of Stella and how she feels now when Michael has left her. And Myles, well Myles is just a baby, who cares for her so much. So, the party. What do we think will happen, since we know for sure that she is going, unlike Myles who wants to believe that she won't. Theories?
Also, I posted an introduction of my new story The Sleepless Moon that comes out on 30th July. Check that out if you love stories about good boys.