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I let Carter through the front door. It's been a few days like he promised.

"You look like a mess." he comments as he follows me upstairs.

"Thanks!" I chirp sarcastically.

"I'm serious. When was the last time you left the house? And God, I thought you smelt bad a few days ago." he grimaces.

"What are you? My therapist? My boyfriend? Someone who gives a shit about me? I don't think so." I mutter.

I go into my room and sit down on my bed. My room is trashed and I haven't washed my bed sheets in weeks. They're getting pretty disgusting too. I haven't felt much like cleaning, or doing anything really.

"You still cutting yourself?" Carter asks.

The question catches me off guard so I don't answer.

He seems frustrated as he tries to find correct words.

"Are you cutting yourself because of me?" he asks.

I don't know how to answer that one so I don't.

He sits down besides me and looks down at his hands.

"Look, I like what we're doing. I like it when you're in pain and I like it when you're scared. But I don't want to be responsible for someone hurting themself." he explains.

"You're literally hurting me. What's the difference?" I snap.

"I don't know. I'm hurting you physically. I don't want you to be hurting emotionally." he mumbles.

"Do you think getting raped was just going to be a walk in the park for me? I'd just ice my bruises and be fine? You took a part of me that I'll never get back. You've broken me." I snap at his ignorance, getting teary.

"Kellin, I just," he stops and sighs.

But he doesn't continue after that. He just stares at the wall and stays silent.

"So you're going to stop?" I blurt out hopefully.

He frowns and shakes his head.

"No..."

My heart sinks and I look away.

I hear him rummage through his pockets for something then he throws it in my lap. I look down and notice its a box of pills labelled 'rohypnol'.

"It'll make this easier, probably for the both of us." he says.

I pick up the box and then realize something.

"You drugged Tay at the New Years Eve party." I point out.

He chuckles a little.

"That was an accident. I drugged you, silly. It's not my fault she drank your drink." he shrugs.

I begin to wonder what would have happened that night if I had drank the alcohol as Carter persisted.

"Look, take it or don't. It's your choice. The offers on the table if you want it." Carter suggests.

"What will it do to me?" I question, considering his offer. Anything to make this easier for me.

"It'll make you feel like your paralyzed, then you'll pass out. When you wake up the next day, you'll hardly remember a thing." he explains.

I pop one of the pills into my palm and stare down at it.

"And you're okay with this? You just said you like it when I'm scared and in pain. Not really possible if I'm unconscious." I shrug.

I want to tell myself to shut up. Why am I making things harder on myself? Why am I arguing this?

But a huge part of me just doesn't care.

Maybe I don't care because I care too much. Maybe it's too much for me to process emotionally so I just have to not feel anything. Maybe it's safer that I feel nothing.

"I'm compromising for you." he tells me. "Like I said, take it or leave it."

"Take it." I decide as I throw the pill down my throat and swallow it.

Carter smiles a little and places his hand on my thigh.

"In a few weeks you won't have to do this anymore. Vic and I will be married. So do me a favor and stop hacking up your wrists." he says almost comfortingly.

Little does he know, once he and Vic are married, I'll just have more reason to hurt myself.

I sigh and look down at my hands.

"Does Vic know?" Carter asks and I shake my head. "Good, keep it that way. He obsesses over you enough as it is."

I'm both confused and a little touched by his words.

"Why are you so jealous? He loves you, not me. He's marrying you, not me." I say disheartened.

Carter turns away from me but I can see the stress my question brought on.

"I just think you're too close." he mutters.

I suddenly feel nauseated and dizzy.

"Woah." I whisper putting my head in my hands.

Carter chuckles and pushes me down on the bed. The world is spinning so I close my eyes to stop it.

I feel my clothes being removed and then I pass out.

When I wake up, Carter's gone, I've been tucked into bed and it's dark outside.

When I sit up, I feel heavy and still nauseated.

I try to remember what happened but can barely remember Carter showing up. 

I look down at myself and notice I'm not wearing any clothes which means that Carter succeeded in what he came here to do.

I whimper at my throbbing headache and pull the covers tighter around myself.

There's a sense of shame and sickness in my stomach. I can't remember what Carter did but I know it still happened. Maybe drugging myself made the process easier but even the memories I can't obtain cut me like knives.

Just knowing someone has used my body for their own personal gain. I've been diminished to a mere object. Something without thoughts, feelings or beliefs. Something less. Something empty. And that's how I feel, empty.

Tears spill from my eyes and I look to the box of rohypnol on my dresser. Maybe I could just sedate myself again so I wouldn't have to think.

But the sound of footsteps up the stairs cause me to put that thought on hold.

I've lived with Jenna long enough to know that it's her making her way to my room.

There's a quiet knock before she opens the door.

"Hey, you're awake." she smiles but there's definitely concern in her eyes.

"Yeah." I whisper.

Jenna comes into the room and sits on the edge of my bed, pushing some head out of my face.

"You feeling okay? You slept all day. I couldn't even wake you up for dinner. You look pale too." she sighs.

She looks tired and stressed which hurts me.

"I think I might be coming down with something." I lie.

"Have you taken some medicine or something?" she asks and I shake my head.

She frowns then reaches for the rohypnol.

"Then what's this?"

Before I can stop her she grabs it and reads the packaging.

"Kellin, this is rohypnol! Did you take this?" she screeches.

"I was having trouble sleeping." I lie.

"That doesn't matter! This is illegal! How did you even get this?" Jenna shrieks.

I sigh frustrated and massage my temple in hopes to soothe my headache.

"Kellin, you promised yourself that you wouldn't turn into your parents." Jenna murmurs softly.

I'm confused and alarmed by her statement.

"And I'm not! How am I turning into my parents?" I snap.

"You're self medicating instead of dealing with your issues, just like they do!" she exclaims.

"They drink themselves to death–"

"And you take illegal sedatives! You need help, Kellin. I'm calling, Vic." she says standing up.

"Jenna, don't!" I whine but she's already storming out of the room.

I sigh and lay back down, looking up at the ceiling.

I need an escape, from this, from everything and Jenna just mentioned a pretty good way to escape.

I crawl out of bed and throw some clothes on before heading out of my room and down stairs.

"Kellin, where are you going?" Jenna asks from the living room as she pulls away from the phone for a second.

"Out." I mumble.

"Where? Vic's on his way over." she huffs.

"Don't wait up." I mumble.

Then I leave the house before she can protest anymore.

I get into my car and drive off as I begin searching for the closest club, liquor store or bar.

Fortunately, I soon find myself parked outside a place called Gunn's.

I turn the car off and sit in the parking lot for a second, just collecting my thoughts and second guessing my decision. Jenna's words echo through my head. Am I turning into my parents?

The accusation suddenly has me pissed off. How dare she compare my situation to my parents? She doesn't know what I've been through! The shit I've had to put up with is excuse enough to do whatever the hell I want. This is my life, my body, my trauma. She can't stop me from trying to ease my pain.

I get out of the car and storm into the bar with an aggression fueled determination, but the second the door closes behind me, I come to a halt. The stench of liquor in the air hits me hard, much like the impact of my father's fist, a memory that the smell seems to have induced. The smell of alcohol is a smell I'm all too familiar with.

I make my way up to the bar and take a seat. I feel timid as if I'm a kid again. It's in that moment I decide, I definitely need to get drunk and fast.

As if having read my mind, a young woman approaches me from the other side of the counter.

"What can I getcha?" she asks with a smile.

I frown, not having a clue what to order. I have never drank before. I've had a sip of a beer once and that's it. And it was disgusting.

"Um, something that will get me drunk, fast." I mumble.

"You want a hard liquor." she tells me. "I suggest vodka with Red Bull."

"Red Bull?" I frown confused.

"Carbonated drinks speed up intoxication. The Red Bull masks the taste of the vodka making it easy to drink quickly." she explains. "And Red Bull is awesome."

"Oh, okay. Sounds good." I smile.

She turns around to whip up my drink.

"Drinking with intent. What's the occasion? Bad day?" she grins at me.

I can't help but to laugh a little at that.

"You have no idea." I snort.

She slides me over a glass that seems to be filled with Red Bull but must be mixed with vodka. I can definitely smell it.

I take one last deep breath before putting the drink to my lips.

Guess I'm about to find out why my parents love this shit so much. 

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