86. The Third Person

“So you didn’t do it to protect Ryan?”
I look up, my teary eyes spearing at Dakota in disbelief. From everything I had told him, he just picked up that *one* detail.
“No! I didn’t do anything to protect Ryan. And I bet he doesn’t need anybody’s protection. His family is influential enough to pull him out of any legal shit.” I spit out vehemently.
*I didn’t know I hated him for his perfect life.*
“Ryan is a selfish motherfucker! He-he used me and all this time I thought I mattered to him and let him play me, until one day he just left me without a word. I never left so unimportant in my life, like an object so easily replaced, and discarded like I meant nothing to the person I gave my all to.”
My heart pounds painfully against my ribs, every word I speak deepens those thorns into my chest, causing to rip open the wounds I have tried to bandage a thousand times.
“I-I could never bring myself to trust another person, or dare to like them to the level I blindly did for Ryan. I never really moved on from that pain of being used and left out, and couldn’t even date anyone without thinking about the trauma he gave me.”
More tears pool down, cutting through my cheeks as I hold on to those painful memories. And the most terrible among them are right in front of me.
“But what you are doing to me is far worse. Worst than I ever did to you!” I yell at the man who ruthlessly tore my heart with his bare brutal hands.
Dakota stares at me with his silent furious gaze, yet there is a sense of sadness, a melancholy of left alone by everyone in his life.
I know his pain is way deeper than mine.
I was dumped by my first love, or so I thought. But Dakota, he was abandoned by his parents, left without a home, with no siblings to protect, no one he could rely upon and on top of that.. I..
“I-I am sorry Dakota for spoiling your life.” *Especially when you genuinely liked me!*
I sob, breaking down in front of him, overwhelmed with guilt for the role I played in further ruining his already miserable life.
Uncontrollable tears pour down my eyes as I realize, we are just two broken souls, one broken than another.
“If my tears and these seven nights were not enough for you, then go ahead, break my bones and take your revenge.” I snap, bursting out in emotions, unable to contain them anymore.
“I won’t even fucking scream or tell anyone, because I am sooo done.. So fucking done of being treated like a whore. It’s better you break every single one of my ribs, so we can get fucking even.” I scream in agony.
I would rather endure the physical pain than continue to suffer this emotional turmoil which makes me want to stab myself for degrading myself to the level I can’t even bear to look at myself in the eye and breathe.
“I am done!” I declare defeatedly, with my tears streaming down and my heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
“Do whatever you want.” I whisper with a crushed spirit.
The crunch of glass echoes in the hall as I walk away like a vanquished princess, who has lost everything.. Her crown, her kingdom, and her soul.
*I am done..*
With every step I climb, I feel a part of me ripping out and falling apart from me.
Holding on to my breath, I rush to my room, not stopping until I lock myself in the bathroom. I instantly grab wet tissues and wipe the residue of his revenge, which is now dried up on my thighs.
*I feel filthy.*
More tears fall as I vigorously scrub my skin, putting fingers in me and desperately cleaning myself, to erase any trace of him from my body, and hoping I won’t get pregnant.
*God, please no!*
My gaze meets the reflection of a girl in the mirror, and my body goes still as I confront the image of absolute destruction.
Tangled hair of a mess, smudged bitten lips with tears mix mascara colouring her cheeks in a cruel painting.
She was *so* happy in the evening.
And he was *so* happy too.
She looked so good, and he made her feel so good too.
But then, like a tornado, everything is destroyed.
*Why?*
Why he had to shower me with so much affection and care, only to shove me down and crumble me later?
WHY?
I thought he liked me..
I thought he liked me too..
But in reality, they never really cared about me.
It was all in my head.
My stupid head.
I hate myself.
I fucking hate myself for feeling so much, so deeply while they never felt a thing for me. Not even pity!
My eyes, my heart, my stomach, everything within me hurts and I collapse to the floor of the bathroom, holding my beating chest.
*I can’t.. I can’t bear this..*
Everything is torturing me to the point where I want to cease existing just to make it stop.
The darkness once I had escaped from, comes clutching me back from all sides, reminding me how cheap I am to let myself to be used and abused repeatedly.
I squeeze my eyes shut and beg my heart to shut down any emotion I am feeling.
I want to be dead from inside.
With no feelings.
After crying and lying on the bathroom floor for an hour, I finally pick myself up with the last shreds of respect left in me.
Once again, my gaze meets with the girl in the mirror. *A slut!*
Disgusted by my own reflection, I turn away, and let my feet take me to the bed, where I lie down like a lifeless doll.
A lifeless fucked up doll.
Tears trickle from the corner of my eyes as I silently stare at the watch on my wrist, changing its time, and finally the date.
But nothing changes within my heart. The pain is still there, the memories and scars, they all are very alive and deep.
* *Click* *
Suddenly, the soft click of the door opening echoes through the room and a shadowy figure enters.
Silently, Dakota walks in and closes the door behind him with a gentle click.
I shut my eyes, unable to look at him and not feel the wounds reopening on my flesh. His light footsteps resonate in the room as he walks towards the bed, me.
My heart races in panic as I feel the mattress dip behind me under his weight.