Addicted

Slightly423psychotic

I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.

T – PG13

WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.

Thanks a bazillion to my beta, Kiki. She adds, spellchecks, and intensifies my chapters. Mucho gracias!!

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And just when I thought everything was dandy and alright in this world, my father comes back. My mom, being a teenage mom, didn't marry my father in her rebellious streak against her parents. Now, I see my father maybe once every other week-and that's because my mom doesn't know what to do with me. It's such a nice feeling knowing that I'm able to bring my parents back together. Open mouth, insert finger, puke guts out.

The minute I got home from my 'outing' with Tristan, my mom drills me with questions. With a sweet voice, I tell her to fuck off, and then go to my room where the comfort of alcohol awaits me. Two hours later, and passed out on my bed, my father walks in and wakes me up.

I'm surprised to see him so close. Usually he observes me from a distance, offering my mom pitiful advice that she soaks up. But nope, he's sitting in front of me, looking at me thoroughly.

-4-2-3-

"You're wearing your mother down, Rory."

"I don't give a shit." I spit out. I do not want to have this conversation. I'm already worn out from my confessions to Tristan today. My father gives me a stern look. I roll my eyes and listen. I can try and at least be polite. But then I get full yelling and accusing rights. It seems fair.

"Rory," he starts softly. "You need to. This can't keep going on. You're a senior in high school. Soon, you'll be at college, and then we can't help you anymore."

"I'm not going."

"What?"

"You heard me." I say, mockingly.

"What do you mean? What are you going to do? Just sit around and do nothing all the time?" I give him a steely look and cock my head.

"No! I'm going to continue to live my life."

"Wake up, Rory. Your life sucks!" My eyes bulge at his accusation. I gape before tears roll down my face. Wiping them away furiously, I get my courage back.

"Fuck you," I grovel out as I stand up. "You don't fucking know anything about me! You don't know anything! You don't know why I drink, you don't know what goes through my head, you don't know what I've been through. So fuck you. Fuck you, and whoever you think you are to accuse me of something of which you know nothing about. You wanna try being me for one fucking day? Fine, go ahead." I move away. "There's one rule. You don't get to kill yourself." My hands are twitching at my side as I slam my door shut on the way out. I catch a glimpse of my mom, her face stunned. It makes me angrier. I slam the house door shut too, and I can almost feel the vibrations from it. I wonder how the glass didn't break.

-4-2-3-

It goes through my head over and over again. It's the only thing I hear. I'm aware of the people coming in around me, but to me, they're all mute. Not even Diana, who makes a raucous opening the door, wakes me from my trance. I can vaguely hear her calling my name, repeatedly. Finally, she shakes me.

"Rory, are you alright." I shrug.

"Am I ever, alright?" I shoot back. She nods understandingly.

"Would you like to stand out here for a little longer to collect your thoughts and then join us in a few minutes?" I nod. I don't even know if I'll enter the room. She nods and gives me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. She enters the room and shuts the door behind her softly. I look around and see the table behind me. Hoisting myself onto, I stare at my fingers.

I spent last night at the only place I can go. Greg's. My head is still reeling from it. I didn't tell Tristan that part. That when I'm lost or can't be at home, I go to his place. It's not rape then. I give him sex for a place to sleep at night. I scoff bitterly and then I slam my fist into my thigh. It hurts, but not as much as everything else does. The tears come again, and I wish I weren't so weak. I glance at the door. I know it's a soundproof room, so I let out a gasp for air. I hear it softly ricochet throughout the barren hallway. It makes me gasp harder, as I quickly wipe the tears away. Letting out a strangled cry, I fling my hand across my cheek.

The slapping sound does nothing for me. It burns. It burns like a flame is against it. But I don't feel it for more than a second. At this moment, I can barely feel anything. I get off the table, and I run. I don't know where, but I run. And as my legs start to collapse under me from strain, I look around and my stomach drops when I see the expansive landscape. I knock on the large door, and jab a finger at the butler who answers.

"Where's my father?" He gives me a frightened look and points. I nod and run towards the hallway. I enter his office, and he stands up out of habit. When he sees me, his eyes bulge.

"Rory."

"No, you fucking don't get to talk." I started, silencing anything else he was thinking of saying. "It took all of my power last night not to slap you across the face. It took every fiber not to strike…to just walk away. You were barely ever in my life until I started spiraling downward. How do you know I didn't do all this just to get you back into my life? Huh? How do you know that I didn't do this so I could at least get some kind of attention from my father?" I watched his face fall. It felt good to give someone else my pain. Even if it was my own father.

"Rory…I"

"Fuck you! You have no right to tell me my life blows. I fucking already knew that, thank you very much. I don't need anyone else telling me that. And just so you know, your life ain't all that splendid either. You've got shit going on in your life no one else would want." I pause and look at him straight in the eye. "And as far as I'm concerned, you have nothing to do with my problem, so don't get excited. You've made yourself nothing to me, and you will always remain nothing to me. Keep out of my life." I spun on my heel and once again, ran.

It's surprising how far you can run in such a short amount of time when you're not thinking of anything but getting away. When the only thoughts going through your head are the ones you're running from. So as I caught my breath, bent over towards my knees, I wasn't surprised that when I looked up, I was at the gates of Chilton. I walked slowly, breathing deeply. My tears had long been replaced by anger. Seeing many uniform-clad students, I realized it was about lunchtime.

Fellow classmates who had seen me, gave shocked expressions, quickly nudging and informing their friends. Soon, many of the lounging students were staring at me. I didn't even know if I was allowed on school grounds. I figured that the worst that would happen would be someone asking me to leave. So I stayed. I continued walking, extremely aware of my jeans and coat, making me stick out a like a sore thumb.

As I continued walking, taking in everything around me, someone clapped their hand on my shoulder. I jumped in surprise. Turning my head, I couldn't help but smile at the girl. No matter how much competition we had between us, Paris Gellar did have a heart.

"Hey!" She said. I gave a smile. A real one, as she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I hugged her back.

"You're alive." She stated as we completely pulled apart. I gave her a look. "I just mean, you got called into the office one day, and then just…disappeared. No one has seen you in almost a month." I nod my understanding. I can tell she's waiting for an explanation.

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?" She snorted.

"Who would I possibly tell? Louise and Madeline? No thanks, all I hear from them nowadays are the good lays they've had the night before." I crack a smile. It was a nice feeling to know that not everything had changed. Taking a deep breath, I start.

"I wouldn't say I was suspended…just dismissed for the time being."

"Not seeing a difference here."

"I'll just get it out. I'm an alcoholic. Chilton dismissed me for the time being-until I'm clean at least. In fact, I'm not allowed to come back until I'm completely sober 24/7." Paris looks shocked.

"Wow. Since when have you been an alcoholic?"

"Sophomore year I guess. I started drinking the summer before, and I guess-" I'm cut off by the bell.

"-and I guess that it just escaladed from there." I said finishing. "You should probably go. I don't want to get you in trouble." Paris nods softly.

"Look, school sucks without you, so I hope you get better, okay? My mom's an alcoholic and I've seen her struggle for years. I guess…just good luck." I smiled at Paris' sincerity. It didn't come out often. I gave Paris another quick hug.

"I'm not sure when I'll see you again, but…don't stress to much okay? School is just a small fraction of your life." I said as she started to leave. She nodded with a smile and waved before joining the rest of her classmates.

Sighing, I watched as the last student went through the doors, leaving me standing in the dead quiet. I slowly forged on, sitting on a bench that was just occupied by students. I try to remember what it was like, to be in this position but a fulltime student. I can't remember. I must have been sitting there for an hour or so, because I heard the bell ring again to signal the switch of classes. Ten minutes later, a voice startled my peaceful atmosphere. My head shot up.

"Greg." I said, biting my lip. He nods towards me and sits.

"I heard you were here."

"Yea, news travels fast around here." He nods.

"So baby, what are you doing here? Couldn't wait to get another session in?" I grimaced.

"You wish. I ran here from my dad's house. Looked up and here I was."

"Sounds fun, but baby, I've been thinking about you all day." He said scooting closer. He put his hand behind me on the bench, invading my space.

"Greg, can we please not do this?" He smirked and shook his head.

"But you're here, and I have a free period. That would just be a shame." He said, coercing me. He'd used all his threats on me, and I was still worried by them all. He managed to keep me in his power-even after all this time. He lowered his head to my neck, teasing my skin. I whimpered and shut my eyes. I had become immune to his touch. I now faked the sounds he wanted to hear. Now, I did everything in my power to just get it over with.

Just as he was about to actually make a move, another student came outside.

"Hey Greg." The guy said and nodded. He glanced at me, surprised. "Rory, hey."

I nodded in return. Ben? Brett? Brandon? I didn't remember.

"Greg, Hayes wanted me to find you. We need to work on our Shakespeare project." Greg groaned as I visibly relaxed.

"Fine. Rory, next time. I promise." Although we both knew it was more a threat. All I could do was nod as the two walked away. Slouching in my seat, I walked away. Nowhere was safe.

AN: It was a little longer this time, about 6 pages. Anyway, more drama and romance and sadness and curse words are coming. Not sure when, but it will. I tried to add more of Rory's outside life, and also she had an interaction with Greg (the guy who rapes her). Anyway, thanks and please review! Love, Emilie

And to address a plot question:

The character Luke from last chapter is not important, and was NOT Luke Danes. He was a made up character.

On the other hand, Tristan, is in fact Tristan Dugrey. I, however, am rewriting history. He never went to Chilton.