A/N: A sad, somewhat cliché fic that might be frequently updated, or not, I don't know. It will be told in Gwen's POV.
Disclaimer: I don't own the fucking Total Drama series, do you?
*Flashback*
I wasn't thinking when I left. I was just mad. I didn't have the time to pack my stuff or do anything. I just wanted to leave Trent, and leave the stupid apartment. Trent and I had fought before, but this was the last straw. I was sick of fighting, and I was sick of him. The future didn't cross my mind, what would happen after I left. I just wanted to leave him.
I swung the door open "Goodbye, Trent!" I screamed, slamming the door behind me. I could hear the thunder outside, and saw the purple lightning flash through the gray night sky. The weather matched my mood perfectly.
I rushed to the stairs and began to run down them as if I had somewhere to be. We were on the fourth floor of the New York apartment building, so it didn't take that longs especially considering the fact I was going so fast I can swear I felt my blood bouncing in my veins. I got off the stairs and went into the lobby. No one was there. Not that I expected anyone to be, it was practically midnight.
I left the apartment building and ran across the street. Rain poured on me like crazy, and by the time I reached my car on the other side of the street, I was drenched. As I opened the door to my Jeep, I heard someone scream, "Gwen! Wait up!"
Of course I knew who it was. It was Trent. He didn't want me to leave him, and looking back on it, in my heart I didn't want to leave him. I wasn't thinking straight, I wasn't thinking at all. "You should have said you wanted me before you said that shit!" I shouted back. "I hate you, Trent! I want to destroy you and your stupid guitar and all the suckish songs you wrote about me! Hot tears ran down my face and mixed with the cold rain, tingling on my face. "Not that any of them were true anyway, because this was NOT true love!" I entered my car and drove off. In my rearview mirror I could see Trent's frantic face. Every detail of that moment is forever etched into my brain.
Sitting on the back patio in my suburban home and sipping tea, I recall the worst decision of my life. If only I could go back to that moment now. I'd turn that damn car around, and kiss Trent. Kiss him hard and let him know I loved him. What I had with him is so much more than what I have now with… ugh. I swallow the lump in my throat. Don't cry, I tell myself. What if Duncan comes out here and sees you crying?
Word of the devil. Just now, Duncan exits the house, slamming the door behind me and stomping towards me with an enraged face. "Hoe!" He slaps me across the face. "The boys and I had beers last night, why didn't you clean them up?"
I look guiltily to the left. I was hoping he wouldn't notice that I hadn't cleaned up the beers he, Geoff and DJ had last night.
Geoff and DJ don't know Duncan abuses me. They just think that we have a normal relationship, instead of the fact I'm nothing but his punching bag, dildo and unpaid maid.
You see, Duncan is a crazy, abusive drunk. I didn't know that when I met him at a bar. He, Geoff and Geoff's girlfriend, Bridgette (now my best friend) were watching a football game, and I slid into the empty seat next to them. Duncan and I started talking. He had this whole fake nice act on, and I fell for it. Also, I thought that he was a suitable match for me. We were both punks. I went home with him that night, since I had nowhere else to go. And then, I couldn't get out of it.
"I'm so sorry, Duncan," I say softly, leaning back a little. "I, I meant to. I must have forgotten. I'll go clean them up now."
"Yes you will, cunt. And as punishment for not paying any attention…" he swings me onto a lounge chair and start beating me like crazy. I want to cry for mercy, but I'm in too much pain to do anything. He throws me off the chair onto the hard concrete. "Now go clean the beers up," he says, even though I'm obviously too badly beat to even move a muscle. "NOW!"
"Duncan, I can't walk," I say, trying not to sound rude. Which is pretty hard, because everything seems rude to Duncan.
He kicks me in the back as I lie hopelessly on the floor. "Get it done," he grunts. "And I'm expecting sex tonight." He spits and walks inside, slamming the door behind him. I try to whisper something after him, but I can't make a sound. It wouldn't matter anyway now that he's shut the door behind him.
I attempt rolling over, but if I even move a fraction of an inch, my spine hurts like hell. I decide to figure out what I can move. I've been in this situation before, and I usually do this. After evaluating each major body part, I realize that I can only move my left arm.
As my eyelids get heavy, I began to drift off to sleep. The last thing I see before I doze off is my tear and a drop of blood mixing.
Tears of blood.
Alright, so there was my suckish writing! :D Yay!