Once Dylan & Marco left my room I grabbed for some more pills and downed them. I suddenly felt very nauseous. I had to get to the bathroom. The only problem- I couldn't walk, and my chair was on the other side of my room. I tried to stand. My legs hurt so bad, I collapsed. I tried to crawl over to the bathroom, but it just hurt so bad.
"Paige you have to make it there." I told myself.
Suddenly the bathroom seemed more than just a few feet away. I thought I was going to be sick on my bedroom floor, and then I felt the cold tile floor on my hands. I made it. I pushed up the toliet seat ,and saw Ricks face staring back at me, laughing.
"NO! NO! DAMN IT, NO!!" I shouted as I threw up.
The next thing I knew I was waking up on the bathroom floor. I felt terrible, and I couldn't move.
"You know, it breaks my heart to see that 'the great Paige Michalchuk,' has finally fallen." A familiar voice said sarcastically.
I glanced up to see Rick standing in my bathroom doorway. Why was he here. Couldn't he see I was already trying to die, and I didn't need his help.
"Go to hell!" I shouted and with that, he dissapeared.
The strange part was, I couldn't tell I was seeing things. I saw his face everywhere. I saw his face on a stool I keep in my bathroom and threw it out the window. Shards of glas came flying back at me scraping and cutting my arms and legs. That's when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
'God, no, not Rick, please.' I thought.
"What the hell??" Dylan was furious. "What do you think you're doing??" He asked, shouting.
I broke down and started crying. Seeing that I was upset, he crouched down on the floor next to me and rubbed my back.
"Tell me what happened." I could see in his face that he was worried.
I told him everything, from being beaten by Rick, and trying to call the cops from Dean's house, and then the painkillers and seeing Ricks face, and the stool.
"What's wrong with me?" I cried.
"Nothing, you're absolutely fine. Rick's the problem. For now, let's try to get you some help.
He drove me to the hospital. The doctors recommened a therapist for me. They said therapy would do me some good.
So, that's where you find me now. I've been seeing a therapist twice a week for about two months now. I still can't walk, but my legs are getting stronger, and my physical therapist says I might be able to use crutches in the next few weeks. Mom still isn't around much, but she's getting better. Dylan still wheels me everywhere, and I'm eternally grateful to him for that. I know Rick's still out there, and sometimes at night I can still hear rocks on the window or hear his petrifying laughter. I wonder if he's gonna strike again. But, that'll just have to wait because I have my own problems to deal with.
THE END
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I know short, huh? But, there may be a sequel. What do you think? Yes sequel or No sequel,let me know!!
"Paige you have to make it there." I told myself.
Suddenly the bathroom seemed more than just a few feet away. I thought I was going to be sick on my bedroom floor, and then I felt the cold tile floor on my hands. I made it. I pushed up the toliet seat ,and saw Ricks face staring back at me, laughing.
"NO! NO! DAMN IT, NO!!" I shouted as I threw up.
The next thing I knew I was waking up on the bathroom floor. I felt terrible, and I couldn't move.
"You know, it breaks my heart to see that 'the great Paige Michalchuk,' has finally fallen." A familiar voice said sarcastically.
I glanced up to see Rick standing in my bathroom doorway. Why was he here. Couldn't he see I was already trying to die, and I didn't need his help.
"Go to hell!" I shouted and with that, he dissapeared.
The strange part was, I couldn't tell I was seeing things. I saw his face everywhere. I saw his face on a stool I keep in my bathroom and threw it out the window. Shards of glas came flying back at me scraping and cutting my arms and legs. That's when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
'God, no, not Rick, please.' I thought.
"What the hell??" Dylan was furious. "What do you think you're doing??" He asked, shouting.
I broke down and started crying. Seeing that I was upset, he crouched down on the floor next to me and rubbed my back.
"Tell me what happened." I could see in his face that he was worried.
I told him everything, from being beaten by Rick, and trying to call the cops from Dean's house, and then the painkillers and seeing Ricks face, and the stool.
"What's wrong with me?" I cried.
"Nothing, you're absolutely fine. Rick's the problem. For now, let's try to get you some help.
He drove me to the hospital. The doctors recommened a therapist for me. They said therapy would do me some good.
So, that's where you find me now. I've been seeing a therapist twice a week for about two months now. I still can't walk, but my legs are getting stronger, and my physical therapist says I might be able to use crutches in the next few weeks. Mom still isn't around much, but she's getting better. Dylan still wheels me everywhere, and I'm eternally grateful to him for that. I know Rick's still out there, and sometimes at night I can still hear rocks on the window or hear his petrifying laughter. I wonder if he's gonna strike again. But, that'll just have to wait because I have my own problems to deal with.
THE END
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I know short, huh? But, there may be a sequel. What do you think? Yes sequel or No sequel,let me know!!