Chapter Ten.
The walls were strikingly white as I stood in my new powder pink Sunday school dress, Grandmother Sue-Ellen waving at me with a comforting smile. She wore her Sunday best, a lavender dress to her ankles with clean nurse shoes, and a white hat with a purple flower on it. I couldn't help the grin that appeared on my face as she held her hands out to me. Grandma Sue-Ellen was my favorite person in the world, and the only one that I knew could understand me. With a shriek I ran quickly across the length of the room, dark brown pig tails flying in the wind.
"Come here, my beautiful girl! Come see your grandma!"
Then, all at once, the picture in front of my eyes changed. Suddenly I was fifteen years old, thick hair past my butt and tattered clothing covering my body. Grandma Sue-Ellen's beautiful face turned into an ugly sneer. My body went cold.
"You aren't my beautiful granddaughter." She jabbed my chest with a sharp finger, sending me falling back onto my butt. "You are an ugly imposter! Go back to the trash where you belong!" The world thundered and rain poured on us, but she remained dry. I was drenched instantly.
"But, Grandma-"Tears rolled down my cheeks and mixed with the cool drops.
"Get away from me, you fiend! Go OD like your mother is going to one day!" She jabbed my forehead with her finger, bruising it. "You're just like her!"
"Grandma!" I screeched as I snapped awake, my hands slamming into my face to catch the falling river of tears down my face. My body was drenched with sweat, the sheets of my bed more like a wading pool then the soft blankets I had fallen asleep in. "Fuck, shit." Fuck, shit is right! What the fuck was that?
"Breanna, are you alright?" An unfamiliar voice spoke from the behind my door, causing me to quiver. Shit, nice one, Breanna. You probably woke up the entire house. My throat clenched tight as I attempted to answer, only coming out as a squeak. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"I-"I fought the words out, running a sweaty hand through my hair to brush it from my still dripping eyes. "I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine." Without warning the door opened with a creek, and the voice muttered a few curses. Paul stood in the doorway, a black long sleeve shirt covering his torso and bright pearly whites glistening in the darkness. His ink colored hair was disheveled from its usual spike, falling into his sleepy almond eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Oh, yeah. I totally believe that. Even though when I pass it on the way to the bathroom, you suddenly scream grandma. No, you aren't okay." Paul shifted himself into the room and shut the door behind him, making his way to sit at the edge of my bed. "Now, I'm not leaving until you talk."
"Well, I guess you're going to be there for days then." I turned and peered at the clock, grunting at the time. 5:06. At least it isn't too early, and I do have to start having a schedule for school soon. With narrowed eyes I turned back to look at him. "I need to take a shower and wash my sheets." He grimaced.
"What, did you piss the bed or something?"
"No, I just sweat a bunch." Slowly I slipped out of bed and made my way to the dresser, pulling out a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, along with my intimates. Paul's eyes burned into my back, making me feel anxious. God, what is with this guy? Can't he tell I'm trying to find something to wear for today?
"I can do your laundry while you shower. Jean forces me to do work around the house all the time to pay for the things I break regularly." Paul doing my dirty laundry? My dirty undies? I shivered at the thought. Okay, so many it wasn't that much of a big deal for a friend to do your laundry, but what if I hadn't just sweat. What if I had also pissed the bed as he had asked? So embarrassing. I shook my head and sat down the clean laundry on the top of the dresser, peeling the sheets from my bed and laying them on the floor. A big wet spot covered the mattress, and I felt my cheeks redden. Shit, shit, shit.
"You sure you didn't piss yourself, Breanna? Looks a lot like pee to me."
"Shut the fuck up." I retorted, my jaw clenching. "I have to flip the mattress to the other side."
"Need any help?" I ignored him and dug my hands deep under the blue mattress, heaving to pull it up. Nothing happened. What the heck? Was the mattress made of bricks or something? "I've been known to a lifter every now and then." Again I attempted to pull it up, only to get it halfway until it fell back down, hitting me in the face in the process.
"Stupid mattress. Why won't you work?" With a huff of agitation I sat down on the soiled mattress in defeat. Paul chuckled, and when I turned to glare at him I was motioned to move. "What do you want?"
"I want to help you. Now move."
"How are you going to help me, by making fun of me for maybe wetting the bed? No, I don't think so. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mattress to flip." He sighed as I stood back up again and attempted to flip the mattress over yet again and failing miserably.
"You can't flip it, Bre." Don't listen to him. All he wants to do is look macho. Well, look here. You're the macho one tonight.
"I can do anything I want." Without warning his hands grasped my wrists and yanked them off of it, and a picture flashed across my eyes, erasing my vision in front of me.
"Who said you could hold on to something, Bre Bre?" William's green eyes pierced mine as rough, calloused hands ripped my hands from the bed frame, causing me to fall and hit the wooden floor of his bedroom roughly. A deep chuckle ripped itself out of his chest, and his foot roughly hit my side without warning. "Now I'm going to have to make your punishment worse."
"No, please don't." Tears trailed their way down my bruised cheeks, burning my eyes with their salt. "I'll be a good girl from now on."
"You promise?" William slowly paused and looked at me with innocent eyes, placing his palm softly against my cheek. I fought the urge to hiss in pain and nodded, attempting a smile. "You really mean that?"
"Yes, Will. I promise." His chapped lips grew into a grin and he slowly drug his hand from my cheek and down to my throat, rubbing the tender flesh before gripping it tightly, cutting off my airway.
"You can't fool me for a second, you dumb bitch. I know you, Breanna. You know how to push my buttons just right." With crazed eyes he leaned forward and licked his way up my ear, disregarding my hands that pounded and grabbed against his hand. A disgusted shiver ripped its way down my spine. "You know how to make me want to just kill you whenever I see you. Isn't that right, Breanna?"
"Breanna?" The picture in front me fizzled out and I was back in front of the now flipped mattress, Paul's worried eyes searching my face. As he reached out to touch me I flinched, instantly picturing William's uncaring hand reaching the very same way. "Are you alright?" His voice wasn't carefree anymore, it was tight.
"I'm fine." Okay, time to take my shower and hopefully forget this every happened. As I made a mad dash for my clothes Paul wrapped his hand around my arm, holding me in place. My body went cold and my heart hammered in my chest. Please, Paul. Don't do this. "Let go of me."
"Not until you tell me what's wrong." His voice was harsh, eyes narrowed in anger. "Just tell me, please." He jerked me closer to him.
"Please let me go." My voice broke on the last word, a sob breaking through my mouth. "Please don't hurt me."
"Hurt you? I'm not going to-"
"Please let go of me." Cries ripped themselves from my throat and after a second his let go, staring down at his feet. I slowly picked up my clothes from the dresser and left the room, tears dripping down my face as I shut and locked the bathroom door.