By the time I get home, my dad is already up.
I sneak past him and go up the stairs as quietly as I can, not wanting him to yell at me when I'm so exhausted.
I look at the alarm clock on my desk and see that it is 6 AM, and the sun is already rising. I'm confused but also not surprised that we stayed out that long, seeing that we fell asleep.
I change into sweatpants, avoiding the mirror in my cupboard.
I never look at myself anymore. I can't figure out an answer for sure, but it's something to do with the places my mind goes when I do.
I start to think about many things if I look at myself for an extended period of time. I start to think about what I used to wear, and where that got me. I think about what has been taken away from me.
My confidence has been taken away from me. I wouldn't say that I used to be an overly confident or cocky person, but I was certainly not insecure or ashamed of my body.
Logan changed that.
He would always comment on what I was wearing, saying hurtful things about my body if I was wearing anything but a hoodie and sweatpants.
Or he would just use his favourite word- Slut.
Now that word and those comments are so ingrained into my brain that I can't look in the mirror or wear what I want without thinking exactly what he told me.
At the time I thought it was normal for boyfriends to say that sort of stuff to their girlfriends. I thought he was protecting me.
But now I know that isn't true.
He was the one I needed protection from.
I shake the thoughts of him out of my head, like I always do before crawling into bed and trying to fall asleep.
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When I wake up, I feel even more tired than I did when I went to sleep.
I swear I was half awake the whole time. Did I even sleep?
The time reads 4 PM, so yes I did sleep.
I decide not to rot in bed right now and I grab my headphones and leave the house. I don't want to see my dad today, because I am afraid that I might just snap at him and make things worse.
I go across to the park because there is nothing better to do in this stupid town.
I consider calling Asher, considering that I now have his number but I don't want to bother him. Surely he's sick of me at this point. He must be.
My mood brightens when I see a familiar head of curly black hair sitting on the swings holding a vodka bottle.
I walk up to her, and a big grin, showing all of her teeth forms on her face when she sees me.
"Amira! Hey, how are you?" Norah is clearly a very happy and cheery drinker.
"I'm good. What are you doing?" I'm curious what she is doing in the town park drinking vodka at 4 PM. Not that I didn't come here to do the same thing.
"I normally get my dealer to meet me here. He's coming in a few. Wanna sip?"
I nod hesitantly and take the bottle from her. I'm not stingy about drinking, I'm just concerned about someone seeing me in broad daylight underage drinking.
That still doesn't stop me from taking a big swig, though.
"Who's your dealer?" I haven't had drugs in a while. I was pretty addicted at some point. Not as bad as some people, but I couldn't go a day without some form of drug. It just made everything go away.
"A friend from high school. He's cool, you don't have to worry."
I nod and give the vodka bottle back to her, sitting down on the swing next to where she is.
Just before I'm about to say something I can hear a car approaching. There is some sort of rap music blasting out the windows of the old SUV.
The car is completely run down, with only specs of the navy blue that it probably used to be.
Two men get out of the car, one with a cigarette in hand blowing smoke out of his mouth.
One has short dreads with colourful beads at the end of them, and there is no denying he is tall and built. He radiates dominance.
The other guy is shorter and lanky with a bleached buzz cut and eyebrow slits.
Both of them have earrings and jewellery scattered across their body, and a sleeve of tattoos that can be seen because of their tank tops. You know that they are legit because as they get closer there is a strong smell of marijuana radiating off both of them that you cannot ignore.
I look to Norah, but she smiles and runs up to the boy with dreads.
She embraces him as does he.
The boy with the buzz cut looks at me with a confused, puzzled look on his face. Looking at him sends a wave of panic through me- I've met him before.
I can't put my finger on it, but I know that the memories I have with him can't be good ones. I scour my brain for anything that connects to him, but come up blank.
Norah is still beaming when her and the boy with dreads come up to me. Buzz cut can't take his eyes off me clearly, and it makes me want to bash my head in. Why can't I remember where I know him from?
"Amira, this is OJ and Jackson. Jackson and OJ, Amira." She points to buzz when referring to buzz.
It's when she says his name that it finally registers.
Logans best friend.
Jackson and Logan have been friends for years, as they went to the same middle school and high school. He used to always be around, hovering with a cigarette in hand. He always gave me weird, creepy vibes and that is proven by the way he is looking at me right now.
I can't tell if he wants to fuck me or kill me.
They come and sit down next to me on the swings.
"What's up love?" OJ has a very strong British accent that makes it hard to understand him.
I just smile at him and take another swig of the bottle in my hand.
I'm starting to feel drowsy, and I know that is the first stage of me getting drunk.
It starts with feeling dizzy, then drowsy and sleepy, then I can't feel anything, and then it's just this addicting bliss.
There's conversation going on and things being smoked, but I stare at the ground as I try to ignore the boy next to me.
I wonder if he recognises me.
The feeling of bliss is long gone as I overthink everything he is going to tell Logan if he remembers me.
I want to leave so bad, but he will question it and it will make it more obvious that I know him.
Every time I look at Jackson a shiver runs down my spine. The memories are slowly coming back to me. All of the parties where he would touch my waist and tell me to drink more.
The time he convinced me to try drugs for the first time.
"You want some?" Norah holds out the small plastic bag of weed.
The green substance is very tempting. Just once, it would be nice to feel the sensation of nothing for just a little while.
Only once won't hurt me anyways, especially when I used to take some every. single. day.
I nod to her and 5 minutes after I have some, the feeling comes back to me and undeniable relief flows through my body.
It feels like finally relaxing after years of being tense.
The rest of the night feels like a dream.
Not a good dream.
A dream in a way that when you wake up from the dream, you can only remember parts of it or sometimes none.
It's a dream in the sense that when you are experiencing it, you aren't in the right headspace and don't make the same decisions that you would when awake.
A/n
HEY GUYS SOOO SORRY I HAVENT UPDATED! When I left this story it had like 5 reads, now it has over 100! Thank you so much, I'm defiantly going to update way more often! Going to get the next chapter out right this second, have the best day beautiful