You Can't Rescue Me

Author's Note: Alright, I know I have about 5 unfinished stories on this site, but I can never resist writing another one! I've been toying with this subject for a while, and I hope I can do it justice. Y'all might notice that I like Brooke a lot. She's like, the main character in all of my stories. Oh, and let me know if you think this needs a warning. It can be triggering, so please let me know.

Oh, and some of the parts are narrated by Brooke and the other parts are third-person dialogue. In subsequent chapters, I'm not planning on having any narrative by Brooke. It will all be third-person.

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Everybody thinks they know me. Like I'm a children's book that's so easy to read. I'm usually not one for clichés, but stop judging a book by its cover. I've heard it all. Every vile name you can call someone, I've been called it. And to your face, I'll laugh it off but it does bother me. Sure, maybe I am a slut, but what is wrong with that? There are reasons why I sometimes sleep around. I crave attention. I don't get it from my family or my friends. I only get it from the guys I have sex with. I may be a bitch, but that's because I can't let people into my heart and the only way I can keep people out is to be mean to them. I'm not a terrible person. I'm hurting. And I deal with my hurt in ways that people feel justified to judge.

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Brooke Davis was studying in her bedroom, as her roommate Rachel enters, laughing.

Brooke picks up her head, "What the hell is so funny?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you study."

Brooke slaps her notebook shut, "it's a distraction", and she shrugs.

"Since when have you used studying as a distraction? What happened to booze?"

"Rachel, it's Tuesday and it's 4 o'clock in the afternoon."

"And…?"

"And I can't afford to get drunk in the middle of the week."

"Since when?" Rachel asks as she grabs a lip gloss from her vanity table and begins to apply the gloss to her lips.

"Since I'm trying to control all of my vices."

"Hmm…a noble goal", Rachel puts the lip gloss back in its tube and smacks her lips together, "Good luck with that."

"Thanks", Brooke snickers and reopens her notebook.

Rachel sits on her own bed, facing Brooke, "How many vices do you have anyway?"

Brooke keeps her head down as she answers, "It's none of your business."

"Ooo, I hit a nerve. Remember, Brookie. We live together. You can't hide things from me for very long."

Rachel gets up off the bed and heads out the door. Brooke stares at the door for a few beats and then grunts as she shuts the notebook and lies back on the bed.

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Sometimes I drink. Well, I drink a lot. I've been drinking since I was 14, and first realized that alcohol makes you forget your problems. Of course, you just end up with a hangover and a list of possible bad things that could have happened while you were wasted. But that part doesn't bother me. All I care about is that moment in time when all of my pain is gone and I'm having a good time with my friends.

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It is a Friday night and the Ravens have just won another basketball game. The party was being held at Rachel's house and the house was overflowing with alcohol. Brooke sat in a corner, talking with Haley, as she downed cup after cup of jungle juice.

"Brooke…?" Haley asks as Brooke suddenly stops talk after rambling all night.

"Mhmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm going to go upstairs, okay?" Brooke closes her eyes slowly and begins to stand up.

"Yeah, I'll go find Nathan. You go sleep it off."

"That's my plan…"

"Okay. Yell if you need me."

Brooke smiles goofily, "I will", as she walks towards the staircase and heads upstairs. She pushes people out of her way until finally getting to her and Rachel's bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She closes her eyes and slinks to the bathroom.

She turns the faucet on to cold and splashes water on her face, trying to relieve the "spins". She sits Indian-style on the cold tile floor as the seconds tick by like hours.

Ten minutes later, after guzzling handful after handful of water, Brooke slowly stands up and walks towards the toilet. She leans down, sticks her pointer and middle fingers of her right hand down her throat, violently throwing up the blood red jungle juice she'd downed earlier in the night.

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I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please let me know what you think about this story by reviewing it. I would appreciate it so much. And check out my other stories, too! I'll be updating them all soon. Oh, FYI- for those who don't know, jungle juice is basically punch with alcohol in it.