Sorry for the lack of updats and sorry for the length and general crappiness of this update - it will get better.
Thanks for the feedback and, the chapter title is from the Panic! At The Disco song, "I Write Sins, Not Tragedies"
Chapter 4 "What a shame, the poor groom's bride is a whore"
(Cont)
"Hey dyke, where are the other sicko's like you?"
"Where's you dyke in shinning armour now?"
"You're fucking disgusting."
"Watch out girls, the lesbo's here, we better cover up."
"I bet she used to love being a cheerleader, getting to change with the girls, watching them get all sweaty, I bet she looked up their skirts too, she's sick!"
"Did you hear about what she did? She's such a whore."
"It's those fucking queer's, you can't trust them."
"Sick lesbian freak!"
"FUCKING DYKE!"
Spencer's body shook as she woke up, her ears ringing. She blinked rapidly trying to figure out where she was, and why she was shaking so much. She squinted not ready for the optical assault, the lights in the bathroom glowing white.
With unsteady hands she reached up and turned the shower off, realising that she must have fallen asleep after, after…the memories of what she had done collided with her body like a ton of bricks. The shivering girl barely had time to lurch her head over the side of the bath, as fresh vomit poured from her mouth, the idea of what she had done leaving the sourest taste on her tongue.
Spencer had pulled herself out from the bathtub, grabbing a huge towel she wrapped it around her still shivering form, not bothering brush her teeth she crashed into Madison as she left the bathroom.
"Get away from me, dyke."
Ducking her head, Spencer hurriedly rushed to her room, slamming the door behind her and throwing herself under the covers – they smelt like aftershave and betrayal – she jumped back out of bed. Blindly ripping the cotton covers away from the mattress and duvet, pulling at the fabric, willing it off of the bedding, listening to it rip and shred in her hands. She continued to grab at the fabric, even after it was off of her bed, tearing the cotton over and over again.
The scraps of torn fabric lay over Spencer's floor as she collapsed back onto her bed, pulling the duvet back over her body, as she started to cry again. The sobs making her body quake.