Author's Note: Glad to know everyone's enjoying my sick sense of humor. I get it from 'Hard Candy,' and no-I'm not talking about the ACTUAL candy, I mean the movie. Hard Candy, with Ellen Page-because she's just so brilliant in that movie. Or, in general. But as much as I enjoy the lighter tones to this, I'm sending Alex back to the dark side for a bit-sorry bout' that. :) More Liv/Lex action comin' soon, so keep watching out for it!
ShaNini86-Glad to know I didn't butcher the user name. :) Also glad to know you liked the lighter tone I brought to it. I figured after the hell Alex has gone through in the past few weeks/months, that she'd have a little fun and joke around. However, her hatred toward Chaz IS still hatred, but also a great amount of fear. Because she can't tackle her own demons, she tackles other peoples-forcing them to face them head on. Funny and ironic how like I said, she can't face her own, eh? Oh dear-I just sounded horribly Canadian there(although, I do love me some Canadians...) haha. Keep reading, your views on Liv and Alex may just go somewhere soon...
SnakeGoddess: Interesting user name, despite my terrifying phobia of snakes. :) Glad to know you enjoy the story, and the quotes. I have to say Salinger is a very good author/quotist...is that even a word? Haha. Well, it is now! :D Keep reading, I love to hear your thoughts.
Starlight63: Glad to know you like Alex's humor. I do too! Keep reviewing, I really appreciate it.
Three.
I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my bedroom this morning. I realized how much I miss the outside world, despite being consumed by the world inside me. The one that I had control over. The one without demons and jail cells, the one which allowed me to be free, do things my own way. The one that unfortunately, was selfish and pushed everyone else away. Olivia, included.
I remember when I first told my mother I was gay. She was drunk(I figured it was easier, that and she was drunk 99.9 percent of my life), and she threw a bottle at my head. A Jack Daniel's bottle. I remembered it because when I looked down at the broken shards of glass beside me, I saw a capital 'J' and when I looked back up, my mother smirked, frowned, took another swig from a bottle that pretty much appeared out of nowhere, and huffed. I watched as she stomped, or swayed is more like it, out of the foyer and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and continuing to drink.
And when my father heard, he took me upstairs to show me the harsh reality of it all. He told me that he will not have a gay daughter in his house, under his roof, and that if I utter another word about it-he'd kill me. My father was always an angry man, so was my mother, but that summer, that night I told him, everything got worse. Including my addiction that was slowly spiraling out of control.
He beat me so hard, so bad, I was almost positive he broke a rib or two. When i heard the sickening crack, I leaned over and vomited on his carpet. He was drunk and didn't care about the pain, but he was incredibly pissed that his ugly ass carpet was ruined even more now. He called me a bitch and told me to clean it up. When I didn't move, he slid down his pants and proceeded to rape me over and over until he was unconscious.
And I lay beside him, dirty, disgusting, sick, and in pain-wondering if him fucking me made me lose a few more pounds.
----
I'm brought back into reality by a harsh grip on my arm. Chaz's hand is forcefully wrapped around my wrist, yelling something foreign at me. I squint and read his lips. Evacuation, he says. Evacuation. Evacuation? I mouth, my voice seeming to get lost somewhere in the back of my throat. He nods, and nearly rips my arm out as he pulls me from the building.
It's then that I've noticed a part of it's in flames. Well, at least I don't have to go to therapy today...
----
I was wrong. I figured the fire would take awhile to get put out, that the building would be ruined and I wouldn't have to deal with Chaz's antagonizing questions, but here we are. In the lobby of the building, wearing gas masks and trying with much difficulty not to breathe in the charred bits and pieces of the old therapy room. I learned one of the crazy anoretics forgot to take their medicine, flipped their shit, and torched the place before lighting her own self on fire and laughing as she burned away into nothing.
It's sad, but when I think about it I cringe. It makes me think of the boy who lit himself on fire during a protest in the 70's.
Chaz is speaking to me again, asking me my thoughts on the girl and today's events. I tell him what she did was pure bull shit and I hope that she burns in hell. He looks a bit taken back at first, but then his gaze softens and he sighs sadly. I think he's trying to mentally analyze how to help me.
I scoff at the thought, raising attention and eyebrows from the other crazies and Chaz, around me.
Yeah, because I'm just so fucking willing to get help.
----
I know it's wrong. What I'm doing. I've known since I've started it up again. In the back of my mind, there's a little sliver, a little voice yelling at me and telling me to stop. But the larger part of my brain tells it to shut up, that I'm not good enough, that I won't ever be good enough. I need to lose just five more pounds and I'll be okay.
But will I really?
----
Some woman barged into my room when I had my fingers down my throat. She ripped my head out of that toilet so fast it spun in circles, but by then I was flying high. She was angry, pushing me toward a scale like I'm some sort of rodent they'd test in a lab. I stepped on it willingly, too out of my mind to give a shit. The scale read 85. I laughed wildly and stepped off, and then laughed harder at the expression her face.
Her eyes were wide and full of shock and she looked near tears. Before I knew what had happened, I clocked her. Hard.
----
The fact I'm not in jail right now for assaulting a nurse is incredibly surprising. But seeing as I'm now under lock down in my bedroom, I can see why. There's nothing here. Nothing. A guard sits outside my room every time I eat, and despite my efforts and threats to kick him in the head, he doesn't budge. I curse at him in anger, flinging every possible word I know around.
I stop when I hear voices talking. It sounds like a woman. When the door opens, I intend to make a run for it, but stop when I find Olivia standing in front of me, a mere few feet away with her arms crossed in displeasure. She steps in, slams the door shut behind her, and my god-the heat that's radiating from her body is insane.
She's almost a little intimidating.
"What the hell did you do?" She hissed. "Assaulting a nurse? Alex what the fuck!"
God, she's even hot when she's pissed. I shake my head, trying to rid myself from the scrambling thoughts. No. Stay focused, stay angry. But how the hell can I stay angry at her when I want to fuck her ten ways from Sunday? I can't. I bite down hard on my lip and look away, too ashamed to say anything.
She sighs unhappily and uncrosses my arms from one another and takes my hands in her owns. The mere touch sends shock waves raging through my spine and I'm incredibly glad I'm sitting down or else I'd be a pool of jello at her feet right now.
"Talk to me." She pleads. I unwillingly find my head turning and my eyes locking with her brown pools. I swallow hard and shake my head, a small whimper slipping from behind my tounge. "Please A...I...I need to know. I can't work, I can't live, I can't concentrate on anything but you. I'm constantly worrying, I..." She stops, and this time, she looks away.
I inch closer toward her, noticing she's crying. I bite down harder on my lip and then slide my index finger and thumb under her chin, turning her head gently back to face me. With a head swimming of merciless thoughts, I push them away, silencing them for a moment and do something extremely unexpected. Without warning, and shocking even myself, especially myself, I kiss her.
I lean forward, pressing her lips to mine in what literally has to be the most passionate kiss in my life. I feel her hands snake around my back and I slowly find my will breaking down, giving into her. A small moan escapes from me and I take the chance to rake my hands through her hair. Her brown curls wrap their way around my pale fingers and I can feel, taste every inch of her. God, she's more amazing then I've ever imagined.
And before I know it, it's over and we've pulled back breathless. For the first time in awhile, I smile. She smiles too for a moment, and then frowns. I arch my eyebrow in confusion. When she utters those words, I feel my heart slowly pull back and slide down into my stomach as a wave of hurt washes over me. "Will you tell me what's going on, please?"
"So that's it? You kiss me and then just expect me to spill myself to you? What the fuck Olivia?" I shout, my voice literally radiating off the walls. She too, looks hurt and instantly tries to interject, to make some sort of statement but I refuse to let her.
"Alex-" She begins. "Just let me explain..."
I shake my head, fists clenched tightly.
"Fuck you." I spat, still shouting. "And get the fuck out of here. I don't ever want to see you again!"
I watched in anger as she left, head bowed, hot tears pouring from her eyes and once the door was closed, I fell to my knees, sucked in a sharp breath, and let out the loudest and longest scream I ever have in my life. This is why I don't let people in.
I always get fucked over.