CHAPTER406
Climbing the stairs quietly, I sneak into my bedroom; the sudden urge to strip off this restricting dress and scrub myself clean overwhelms me. Tonight, I behaved exactly as I have always done; getting trashed while some sleazy man made moves on me. Only this time Arrick wasn’t at the other end of the phone to be pissed at me or come to take me home with him. Nothing has changed. I’m still an idiot, acting out and bringing heartache to those around me.
I walk into my bathroom, turn on the shower and climb in as soon as I strip down, wiping the mess of makeup from my face as hot water pours over me, removing the smells and memories of that creep from all over. The smell of his aftershave on me makes me retch and I can’t get his slimy face out of my head. Waking up to that perverted fuck on top of me was like a flashback to hell. The nausea rises and I can’t stop the vomit hitting the floor of my shower cubicle as emotion pushes me to eject what’s left in there.
I slump down on the shower floor, away from the mess I made as it rinses it down the drain, tears overtaking me, water washing away all my indiscretions, but my heart is as raw and wounded as it has been for months. This isn’t a new Sophie, this is the same old Sophie with a new wardrobe and a new hangout, and I’ll be damned if I go down this route again. All tonight has done is made me realize that I don’t want to go back to this, don’t want to be this girl anymore.
Finally, I climb into bed with damp hair, holding the short strands up above my face as I scrutinized it, wondering what Arrick would say if he saw me now. I miss him, despite everything, and know how much worse it will be for me if I call him. I just want to hear his voice. Want to feel like he’s still there, that even with shit like tonight he would have still come for me. I need him more than anything to make me feel better, to feel safe from perverted assholes always trying to get something I don’t want to give.
I roll over onto my side, pulling Princess Snuggles and snuggling up to her. She was a present from him, a long time ago and one of the few things I cannot part with, about as close to him as I can get right now. My head is a mess and I’ve only pushed myself back to square one. This is everything I told myself I would change, everything that I have come to despise about myself since being back here. Tomorrow I will start over, get back on track and cut that Camilla bitch out of my life and my cell.
I sit at breakfast with a gurgling stomach and pounding head, after forcing myself to get up, despite getting in so late, and I am trying to appear normal for the sake of my parents. My mom eyes me warily, but as yet hasn’t said much as I pick at my granola, trying to keep it down.
“I don’t know if it’s the hair, but you look pale and washed out, more than usual.” My father interjects into my thoughts as he regards me over his paper. I keep my eyes on my plate and don’t respond. Knowing I literally have no ability to behave normally or speak right now. “What time did you get in, we didn’t hear you?” He adds a little more forcefully, an obvious tone in his voice this time.
“I don’t know, I didn’t check.” I answer quietly, honestly, as I didn’t check the time. I push my plate away and make a move to get up, knowing more is to come if this was how Dad is starting the morning, and I literally cannot handle. My body is fighting me in the worst kind of way, the nausea strong. I should have stayed in bed and got the rest of this booze out of my system before attempting to stand upright.
“Did you come home drunk?” His tone notches a few octaves in the anger department, and I sigh. Good timing to be a forceful dad! Years of leniency and he chooses now to get harsher.
“Dad, come on; I don’t feel good. I think I’ll go back to bed.” I sigh, trying to stay passive and not get mad at him. My mom throws me a shady look and then one at my dad, that translates to ‘she looks like she was.’
“I asked you a question and I expect an answer, young lady!” He snaps at me, makes me and my mom jump with the sudden bitey tone. He never snaps, like ever, and I instantly bristle defensively with that good old fucking temper of mine. A rage, that he has always let me be, let me behave like a pampered little bitch, and now he has the nerve to try to control me, at twenty years old!
“Yes, okay. I got drunk, I came home, and I vomited in the garden. Are you happy? Cos I’m fucking not, and I don’t need any goddamn lectures over this shit right now. I think someone spiked my drink, so I am going to my bed!” I sound like the spoiled little brat who told her parents to go fuck themselves months ago and ran to New York. I grimace that I’m being that same little shithead right now. I hate that they’ve pretty much let me get away with any kind of behavior over the last six years to overcompensate for what that sick fuck did to me, and then when they tried to reel me in, they let me run away and left me to it.
I hate that they always let me get away with everything, and this morning is no different. My dad is just sitting looking at me like he thinks he shouldn’t keep pushing, now that I’ve snapped back, and my mom starts to cry. I wish they would just do what they did with Ben or Rylanne, and go crazy psycho at me for getting trashed and fucking myself up, let it out, then let me go to my room to suffer, ground me and speak no more about it. But they won’t, they will make passive-aggressive remarks, and then I will never hear the end of it, making me feel guilty endlessly.
“Sophie?” My mom’s emotion strained voice catches me, sheer disappointment on her face and I can only hang my head in shame again. I slide away from the table, avoiding my father’s angry glare and make a move to leave. “I thought you were trying?” My mother’s pained voice hits me hard in the heart. She obviously doesn’t believe that I suspect someone spiked my drink, all they see is Sophie going off the rails again.
Still. Whatever."
