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KND Freebies: Rave-reviewed bestselling novel THERAPY is featured in today’s Free Kindle Nation Shorts excerpt

***KINDLE STORE BESTSELLER***
in Coming of Age Fiction &
New Adult Romance

4.9 stars – 208 reviews!!

Heartwrenching yet hopeful, this searingly honest novel about a damaged young woman’s desperate need to feel loved is gripping readers with its emotional power.

Don’t miss THERAPY while it’s just 99 cents!

THERAPY

by Kathryn Perez

4.9 stars – 208 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Sometimes you have to get lost in order to be found…

I’m needy. I’m broken. Cutting breaks through my numbness, but only opens more wounds.

Depression, self-harm, bullying….that’s my reality. Sex and guys….that’s my escape.

The space between the truth and lies is blurred leaving me torn, lost and confused. And while the monsters that live in my head try to beat me — the two men that I love try to save me.

This is my story of friendship, love, heartache, and the grueling journey that is mental illness.

WARNING: Due to possible triggering descriptions of self-harm and some sexual situations this book is not recommended for anyone under the age of 17 years old.

5-star praise for Therapy:

“…a beautiful journey between the dark and light…an insiders look at the world of mental illness, love, relationships, and life…”

“…Heart-wrenching at times, but so worth it… ”

“…deals with some of the hardest subjects that so many struggle with…It’s a roller coaster of emotions that you simply can’t put down…”

an excerpt from

Therapy

by Kathryn Perez

 

Copyright © 2014 by Kathryn Perez and published here with her permission

PART ONE
DARKNESS

“Depression is a sneaky, evil bitch. She creeps in when you least expect it and snakes her way throughout the corridors of your mind while feeding on the light of your soul. She shows up during your most difficult times, only making them harder to shoulder. Sometimes, I wish depression was a living, breathing, tangible being, so I could wrap my hands around her throat and squueze ’till all that’s left in her pools of darkness is nothingness, rendering her powerless to ever hurt me again.

                                            – Jessica

Chapter One

“The small words hurt the most.”

—Kris Harte

Jessica

Gripping my journal, I flip through the pages of my written pain. Putting pen to paper is comforting to me; my journal is the only place I can really be myself, the only place I can release my demons and voice my fears. Trying to forget summer break, I push away the thoughts of Brian and the other guys that used me for sex these past couple of months. The heartache they caused is nothing compared to the pain I’ll face today.

Senior year. My last year of hell on earth is upon me. This morning I have to step inside the hallways of my own personal nightmare. The fear I feel is almost tangible. Writing will help ease it, but I know it won’t be enough. I place my hand over my lower stomach and run my fingers across my scars. I focus on the blank page before me and start to write.

Faces

Familiar places

Trapped within these walls

Taunting me

Trapping me

Laughter filling the halls

Not much longer

It will soon end

Can’t let them know

They win

Broken

Beat down

Their derisions

Circling all around

Block it out

Push it down

Keep building these defenses

Brick by brick

My emotions bound

Seeing a stranger

When I look in the mirror

Lost and alone

My soul pleading

Desperate to find a home

***

I sit in my car, staring at the front steps of Jenson High School as dread washes over me. The drive here was nothing but minutes filled with anxiety.

Only one more year. I can do this. Just one more year and I’ll be free of this hell on earth forever.

The past three years were nearly unbearable, and I can’t imagine this year will be any different. I grab my backpack and push my car door open. The parking lot’s filled with people milling around, chattering about senior year, eyeballing each other’s outfits, and sizing each other up. One clique bleeds into another clique, and so on. Keeping a low profile is important to me, so I’ve chosen to wear a plain pair of skinny jeans and a simple white T-shirt; I don’t belong to any of the cliques.

Because I’m invisible.

I barely exist.

A loud engine rumbles as a huge truck pulls up in the parking spot beside mine, startling me. I look over to see that it’s none other than Jace Collins, superstar athlete and megapopular boyfriend to my worst enemy. His door opens and he jumps out, throwing his backpack over his broad shoulder. He might be with the biggest bitch in school, but God, the guy is like a huge magnetic force made up of sexual tension and dimples. By the time I realize I’m staring, it’s too late; he’s noticed me ogling him. A small grin stretches across his face and I blush, snapping my eyes away. I turn and start walking toward the school when I hear her.

“Oh look, it’s Jenson High’s school slut. How lovely!” Elizabeth shouts, loud enough to draw attention my way.

I clench my backpack strap, keeping my gaze forward. I can feel her eyes gunning a hole through the back of my head. This is the only time of day when I’m visible. When I’m in the cross-hairs of Elizabeth Brant’s clique of mean girls, I’m a huge blaring bull’s-eye. Engaging with her is pointless. She never gives in or lets up. Now, everyone within earshot stares and laughs at me. Taking in a deep breath, I try blocking it all out. I can hear her spitting more venom my way as she gets closer, and her sidekick Hailey joins in the taunts.

“How was your summer, Jessssssica? How many guys did you add to your list, huh?”

Their laughter fills the air around me, and then I hear him. Jace. He’s been stepping in for the past couple of years to shut them up when they talk shit to me. The first time he did it, I was stunned. Why would he care what they said to me?

I’m no one.

I barely exist.

“Okay, enough of that bullshit. It’s the first day of school. Do you both have to be such assholes?”

I don’t turn around or acknowledge his act of kindness. I’m thankful, but I can never tell him that. If she saw me talking to him, it would be a disaster. I don’t know why, but every time I make eye contact with him I get butterflies in my stomach. Of course, he’s never flirted with me like so many of the other guys do. I know why they do it, and so does everyone else, but Jace has never treated me like a slut or piece of trash. He’s as close to a gentleman as a teenage guy can be.

Last year, when we were paired together in chemistry class, Elizabeth was pissed off. She pinned me down with her stare for the entire hour, but Jace ignored her and rolled his eyes. When class was over, he got up and gave me a small smile before walking away. It was the one time that I hadn’t felt like a nobody. For that one hour I’d felt present and not so closed down. It was easier to breathe—it felt like what I assumed school should feel like.

Jace remains a mystery to me. I have no idea why he treats me like a normal girl, but every time he does, my heart beats a little stronger and a little faster. I hope one day I have the opportunity to thank him. Until then, I’ll keep my gratitude safely tucked away.

Chapter Two

“Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets.”

—Paul Tornier

Jessica

   I close my eyes as the blood runs down my stomach, the pain oozing out with it. This is what I want, what I need. Otherwise I’m numb, feeling nothing. The pain and depression stays suppressed until I can release it. It gives me a high and a rush that I crave every morning before I go to school. I know when I walk through those doors each day that I have to flip a switch inside and turn it all off just to make it through. My mom drinks coffee with a shot of liquor to start her day.

I cut myself.

I shove my notebook in my book bag and mentally prepare for day two of dodging Elizabeth Brant and her posse of mean girls. Some days, I wish I could just meet them all somewhere and let them beat the hell out of me; they could spit all of their poison my way and be done with it. If I knew it would make them stop, I’d do it in a minute. My senior year of high school has barely begun, yet I’m already counting down the days ‘til it ends. For the past three years, school has imprisoned me.

I just want it to be over.

Every day I pray that they’ll forget about me, and I’ll really become invisible. But they never do. I do everything I can to keep attention away from myself in order to avoid their radar. It’s always futile—Elizabeth is merciless. I’ve never understood how a girl who is so beautiful on the outside can be so ugly and evil on the inside. How all of her admirers can’t see her for what she really is will forever be a mystery to me. But I know better than anyone how easy it can be to fool people and hide your darkest secrets inside.

Because I do it every day.

I head into first period English and sit at the back of the classroom like I always do. I shuffle through my book bag and get my notebook out just as I hear them. Their banter is unmistakable.

“Oh my God, Hailey, did you see him this weekend? Jace was on fire in the game, although he always is. I rewarded him afterward, of course. Then he was really on fire.”

The bitch posse giggles as Elizabeth goes on about her boyfriend and the school’s quarterback, Jace Collins. They’re the “it couple” around the school. Jace is Mr. Popular and, of course, Elizabeth is Ms. Popular. What he sees in her, I have no idea. Well, aside from her long, luxurious blond hair, flawless bronzed skin, perfect body, and crystal clear blue eyes. But she radiates bitch, regardless of her appearance.

Elizabeth glances back at me as she takes her seat. “So, Jessica, how much slutting around did you do this weekend?”

I dart my eyes down toward my notebook, refusing to reply to her taunts. Trying to stick up for myself only makes it worse. My long jet-black hair falls down around my face, creating a curtain of defense, and I doodle aimlessly on my notebook, ignoring all of her comments.

Something hits my arm and falls onto my desk, then again, and again. I look up and Elizabeth is laughing as Hailey, her partner in crime, balls up another tiny piece of paper. I roll my eyes at them and look back down at my notebook, swiping the pieces of paper onto the floor.

Brian Wheeler turns, looking at me with an assholish smirk on his face, and waggles his eyebrows up and down suggestively. My stomach rolls along with my eyes as I look away from him. Brian is yet another example of a relationship gone bad. The fact that I’ve slept with him makes me want to puke.

Elizabeth turns around, mumbling something about what a skank I am just as Jace walks in and sits down beside her. Hailey flicks another balled-up piece of paper at me and he scrunches up his eyebrows, glaring at her. She grins back at him and shrugs her shoulders innocently.

“Hailey, don’t be such a bitch,” he says in an obviously irritated tone.

Thank you, Jace.

You’re a mystery to me, Jace.

Why do you care, Jace?

Jace, Jace, Jace.

“Jace Collins, don’t talk to my best friend like that! Hailey is only warding off the infestation of STDs sitting behind us,” Elizabeth hisses.

He looks back at me and mouths the word sorry. I don’t reply; no expression, no all-knowing look, nothing.

He’s the epitome of male perfection with his sandy, dark blond hair and light blue eyes. He’s toned and muscular, but not in a bulky way, and he’s tall with wide shoulders. Not only is he the star of the football team, but also the baseball and male swim teams too. He’s an athlete and pretty much has a clear-cut future with an athletic scholarship to a major university of his choosing.

The only reason I think he’s ever nice to me is because I’m on the girls’ swim team. I steer clear of all team sports, for the most part, and I’m definitely a loner. I’ve been competitively swimming for four years now, and it’s the only thing that I really enjoy besides writing. School is a means to an end for me, and I can’t wait for it to be over. This place is like a sick form of karmic punishment for something I must’ve done in a former life.

After English class, we all file out. I walk slowly, allowing Elizabeth to exit first. Hopefully she’ll forget that I’m behind her. I make my way to my locker only to find notes reading WHORE, along with other expletives in big bold letters, taped to it. I rip the papers off quickly just before Elizabeth walks by, shouldering me hard into the cold metal lockers.

“Oh, excuse me, Jessica. I didn’t see you there,” Elizabeth jeers. “You should wear a slut warning sign that lets the rest of us know you’re there!” she laughs as her followers surround me.

I look to the floor, hugging my books to my chest and shut it all out. This is how I deal with her, with all of them. I lock down, shut it out, and wait for it to be over. She flicks a strand of my hair from my face, and I flinch.

“We all know you slept with Harrison this weekend. You know that Hailey has been seeing him for quite a while. Did you really think you could keep that from us? Huh?” she demands, inching forward. “You better keep your skanky ass away from him. Do you understand me, Jessica?” She’s so close that her words spray flecks of spit onto my face. “He doesn’t want you! None of them want you, bitch!” She slaps her hand on my locker mere inches from the side of my face, and whispers quietly as she leans in closer to my ear.

“Don’t you ever just think about ending it all and sparing us the repulsion of looking at you every day? You’d be doing everyone here a service.” She glares at me with hatred burning in her pools of ice-cold blue. My eyes quickly dart back and forth, looking for an out. I feel hot, too hot, and my skin is clammy.

Breathe.   

Then I hear his voice.

“Liz, leave her the hell alone already!” he scolds, gesturing for her to make her way to second period. “Remember what I said, skank,” she exclaims as she struts off down the hallway.

I look up to see that Jace is still standing here looking at me, his hands shoved into his jean pockets. I feel vulnerable and embarrassed. Why is he causing this awkward, silent moment to happen? I look away nervously and turn back to my locker, opening it quickly with shaky hands.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Liz and her tribe of bitches,” he says as I rustle through my locker, stalling so I don’t have to turn around and make eye contact with him. My hands are trembling, and I’m trying to regain some form of composure after the face-off with Elizabeth.

Just breathe, Jessica.

“Don’t let her rattle you so much. I didn’t hear what she was saying, but I promise you her bark is far more scary than her bite.”

He has no idea what his girlfriend is really like on the inside.

“Are you ready for swim this year? I hope we kick ass like we did last year,” he says, and I wonder why he’s trying to carry on a casual conversation with me. The bell rings.

Thank goodness.

I spin around and look at him with my mask of fake confidence. “Thanks, Jace. And yeah, I’m ready for swim team. I really have to get to class, though,” I mutter. His mouth turns up into a grin and he walks away in the opposite direction.

What was that all about?

Why do you care, Jace? Why?

If Elizabeth sees him carrying on a full-blown conversation with me, she’ll go apeshit. I’m like the plague around here, and the star quarterback talking to me is definitely not a good idea.

The day moves at an arduous pace, but I continue to avoid Elizabeth. I’m not sure what’s worse—this place and the way I seem to be the butt of everyone’s jokes or home where I’m invisible to everyone.

I go to my car and drive home, blasting Seether out of my speakers. I wonder what kind of day Mom is having. She’ll either be drunk, or be Martha Stewart; it’s a fifty-fifty chance.

I stopped caring a long time ago. When she’s not drunk, she tries too hard—it’s smothering. She overcompensates for her lack of parenting on the days she’s drunk as shit. I pull into the driveway and see her sitting on the porch, smoking a cigarette, and holding a glass of wine. There are kids outside playing next door where new neighbors are moving in. Their ball is in my way as I try to park, so I maneuver around it the best I can. A little girl smiles and waves at me as she retrieves the purple ball. I look up as I get out of my car and see Mom smile and wave sloppily at me.

Drunk day today…

“Hi, Mom,” I say hurriedly as I walk past her.

“Hi, sweetie. How wassss your day?” she slurs.

“Great, Mom. It was great!” I say, lying straight through my teeth. Telling her the truth is pointless.

I go inside to my room and slam the door behind me. After locking it, I reach over and pull out my hidden box of razors, alcohol swabs, ointment, and bandages. I flip my iPod docking station on and fall down onto my bed. Hinder plays as I pull up my shirt. Unbuttoning my jeans, I pull them down just barely enough to expose the fresh cut from this morning. I have to be really careful not to let the cuts get infected, so I clean and bandage them daily. It’s a normal routine for me.

I know I’ll have to put on a happy face when my dad gets home. He doesn’t really pay me any attention, but I always feel like he has me under a microscope, looking for any imperfection or mistake. I do my best to avoid him like everyone else in my life. The weekend is the only time I socialize, and that usually involves a guy. Sneaking out every night on the weekends is the norm for me. I’m usually cruising the back roads with whatever guy I’m seeing at the time, which changes often. I’m always too clingy, so they always run scared after they get what they want from me. Sex is my way of connecting, another way to feel something. I guess sex equals love for me since I have no idea what love really feels like. It’s my version of love and it fills a void, so I continue the vicious cycle of sleeping with every guy I go out with. The fact that guys have never noticed my scars really should tell me that they don’t care at all. I know it’s usually dark and they aren’t that visible, but to this day not one guy has noticed. If they have, they’ve never said anything.

After cleaning up my cut, I place a bandage on it and button my pants back up. Placing the box of items back in my nightstand, I pull out my journal and decide to write. I rarely understand why I feel the way I feel every day. Writing is my only true form of expression free from the fear of judgment. I can pour all of my feelings, fears, and frustrations into the pages of my journal and know that they’re all safe from the bullies that make my daily life a living hell. My secrets must stay hidden, just like my pain.

Pulling the cap off of the pen with my teeth, I chew on it anxiously as I write.

You only know the mask I wear

Who am I?

Do I even know?

Black…White… No gray

I either love or I hate

When I want to hold on, I claw instead

No sense of purpose

Eyes that are dead

Regret and rejection I swallow down

I just want someone to love me

Emotional pain creeps all around

When someone hurts me, it hurts forever

Be. Me. For. A. Day.

Let me walk beside you

Let me look over

See the me you see

Then you can walk beside me

See the you that I see

I’ll keep filling the hole in my soul with IOUs

While you keep filling it with I Hate Yous

I shut my journal and text Harrison. We had a good time this past weekend, no matter what Elizabeth had to say about it. Having someone makes me feel happy, even if it’s always short-lived.

Me: Hey, I had fun last weekend. You want to hang out this weekend?

He texts right back, and I instantly feel better. Happier even.

Harrison: Hey, babe. Yeah, I had a blast with you. You really know how to show a guy a good time! I’m not sure about this weekend. Jace and the guys invited me out. It’s just some sort of guys’ night out thing, but I’ll catch you some other time. 😉

My smile fades along with my happiness, and I instantly feel rejected. I want him to want to be with me, not the guys. Why does this always happen? Why do I need them so badly? Why do I want them so badly?

It’s always the same. Every guy I date, I feel consumed by some sort of freakish need. I know it’s not normal, but I can’t make it stop. In the end it either pushes them away, or causes me to go off on an emotionally charged rant toward them. I regret it every time, but the cycle is on repeat nevertheless. I usually talk with them online because they don’t speak to me at school. No one really does—I’m bad for everyone’s reputation. Elizabeth makes sure of that. One day last year, Brian sat with me at lunch and Elizabeth and her group made him sorry he ever did.

My phone buzzes and I see that I have fifteen notifications on Instagram. That’s weird. I never get much action on any of the social media sites. I have no real friends to speak of. I tap the icon and open the app. I touch the little notification bubble and fifteen comments or likes pop up. It’s a picture of me. Shock freezes the blood in my veins as I scroll down. SlutPics123 posted a picture of me hanging myself. A quote bubble above my head says DEAD SLUT HANGING.

They follow me everywhere I go; I can’t escape them! I know Elizabeth and Hailey did this, but this is a new low. Their weapons aren’t illegal, yet they cut me deeper than a blade ever could. Hiding behind electronic shields, they use their words like swords. I wonder what’s worse—the invisible scars they leave or the visible scars I inflict upon myself?

Chapter Three

“I have no one. I need someone.”

—Amanda Todd

Jessica

Another week of school has inched by and I’ve done my best to ignore the picture they put up on Instagram and the ridicule that’s followed it. Being silent may seem weak, but staying silent takes more strength than they’ll ever know.

I’m hoping Harrison will be able to see me this weekend. I’ve tucked a note in his locker, letting him know I’ll be home waiting for his call if he decides he wants to hang out.

He doesn’t really talk to me much at school, which I guess I understand. It would only cause him unwanted drama. Elizabeth and her minions have everyone at school convinced that I’m an infestation of STDs.

Mom is Martha Stewart today, which means a cooked meal for dinner. She’s humming and prattling around in the kitchen like we’re the Cleaver family. Dad will be home soon. He’s having a business partner over for dinner, which also means Mom will be on her best behavior. I’ll stay huddled up in my room for as long as possible until I‘m forced to smile and interact with everyone.

My brother is the star of the family and can do no wrong in Dad’s eyes. Jeff always gets the attention from Dad that I crave. I had hoped that when he left for the University of Texas Dad would finally begin to see me, but that didn’t happen.

I hear my phone buzzing and grab it, hoping it’s Harrison. I swipe the screen, revealing his sexy, tan face.

Harrison: Hey, you wanna hook up tonight after all?

Me: Sure! Where and what time?

Harrison: Meet me down at the parking spot by the water tower at 9 p.m. C you there.

I’m instantly excited, and start rummaging through my closet to find something hot to wear for him. I grab a black miniskirt, red halter top, and my laciest underwear. He never has condoms, so I’ll have to stop and get some at the 7-Eleven on my way there. It’s a given that we’ll have sex. I know it sounds horrible, but I don’t feel bad about it. Guys want it, and if you don’t give it to them, they don’t want you. I want him to want me, so sex is necessary.

I just want to be wanted.

Loved.

After a painstakingly boring meal with Mom, Dad, and his business partner, I change and head out. I tell my parents I’ll be back by curfew, but they won’t notice if I’m late.

I go to the 7-Eleven and buy a pack of condoms. A few get shoved in my purse and I toss the rest in my glove compartment. I check my makeup in the mirror and run my fingers through my long dark hair. I stare into my hazel eyes and wonder what other people see when they look at me.

Do they only see a slut?

A weird girl?

Are they really even looking at all?

I shake the thoughts away and save them for a later time when I can write them in my journal.

I put my little Honda into drive and head out to the town water tower. It’s always been a popular parking place for the local teens. As I get closer, I notice a couple of different cars and wonder why there are people out here so early; it’s usually later before anyone starts showing up. I pull in farther and park.

I scan the area and see a couple glowing cigarettes, but can’t make out who the people are smoking them. My heart rate kicks up; I hope they aren’t I Hate Jessica club members.

Me: Harrison, where are you? I’m here.

About five minutes pass by, but I hear nothing back from him. I decide to wait a little longer, because I really want to see him. I jump when I hear a knock at my window, and turn to see Elizabeth staring back at me with a smug grin on her face. My heart jams into my throat, and my breathing speeds up into high gear. At least when she corners me at school there’s usually an out. It’s a crowded, public place with adults around to prevent any serious situations. But this? This is very different. I have no idea why she’s here, how she knew I was here, or what she wants with me.

She beats on my window as her friends circle around my car. I quickly start my engine and throw the gear in reverse. I need to get the hell out of here. Just as I start backing up, Harrison pulls in right behind me, blocking my exit. I’m now completely boxed in. Maybe this is best, like I’ve always wanted. She can do whatever she wants to me and be done with it.

I really don’t care anymore.

“Get out of the damn car, whore!”

I turn and glance toward the front of my car just as Hailey pours a beer all over the hood. Harrison walks up puts his arm around Hailey affectionately, and my stomach clenches in anguish.

How could he do this? Did he trick me so that I’d come out here and they could torture me? Why would he be so cruel? I’ve always done everything he’s asked of me. I’ve always tried to make him happy. How could he do this to me? Tears start to well up in my eyes, but I quickly get myself under control, not wanting them to see me break. I reach over and open my door, step out, and am instantly shoved back against the cold metal of my car.

“I told you earlier this week that Harrison was Hailey’s. You just wouldn’t listen, would you, skank? Hailey saw your texts to him. Did you really think he was going to keep seeing you? He’s not going to lose the captain of the cheerleading squad for the captain of the blow job team,” Elizabeth hisses sarcastically.

Everyone laughs as I stand there. Just before I open my mouth to antagonize her, Bentley comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her, kissing her neck. Has she broken up with Jace, or is she being the whore that she always claims me to be?  Bravery finds its way to my tongue, and I do the stupidest thing I could ever do.

I poke the snake when it’s ready to strike.

“Where’s Jace, Elizabeth? Does he know you’re out here screwing around on him with Bentley? Maybe I’ll let him know and he can be my next fuck. I bet I can show him things he never dreamed of when he was with you.” I smirk and cross my arms over my chest. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I await her response.

Her eyes grow wide and she gasps as everyone starts laughing and heckling her over my comment. “Bentley and I are just friends, you stupid bitch. Mind your own damn business. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway?” She slaps me with all her strength and heat creeps across my face. Grabbing me by the shoulders, she slams me into the car even harder.

“All of a sudden you’ve got some newfound courage tonight, huh? You’re going to regret ever saying that shit to me. And if you insinuate that I was doing anything other than hanging with friends to Jace, tonight will feel like a walk in the park compared to what will happen to you next.”

She grabs me by my arm and yanks me away from the car.

“Hailey, get your ass over here and help me. This shit is all your damn fault anyway. Your boyfriend’s the one that can’t keep his dick in his pants!”

I look into her evil eyes defiantly, practically begging her to beat the hell out of me.

Don’t do it, Jessica. Don’t make it worse.

“Go fuck yourself, Elizabeth,” I reply in a raspy, nervy voice. I make it worse.

I feel like I’m moving in slow motion as I let her manhandle me, not trying to defend myself at all. I don’t care, so I just let her and Hailey do whatever they want.

Maybe Harrison will feel sorry for me and want me afterward.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the pathetic thoughts rolling through my equally pathetic mind. Their laughter ebbs away slowly as I slip into my locked-down world of numbness. I open my eyes, and despite my efforts to block it all out, my stomach twists in anticipation of what will happen next. Harrison glances up at me, his eyes full of mockery and disgust.

“Act like a whore, Jessica, and you’ll keep getting treated like one,” he spouts.

How I thought he liked me, I don’t know. Hailey and Elizabeth are dragging me along while everyone else hoots and hollers. I look back at Harrison with hatred in my eyes, in my heart.

“I hate you, Harrison!”

He laughs and grabs his crotch. “You sure weren’t hating on this last weekend, baby,” he mocks. Joe Fitzer, another guy from the football team, pats Harrison on the shoulder and laughs. “Hey, Jessica, I’m single. Maybe you can show me the same TLC you showed my homeboy Harrison.” Joe winks at me as he takes a draw from his beer.

Hailey grips my arm tighter, hearing the guys’ words. “Shut the hell up, you horny bastards! No one cares how you let this skank-ass tramp blow you or how you want to get into her STD-infested panties!”

Elizabeth spins me around, grabs my wrists in her left hand, then rears up and slaps me on the left side of my face again. The only fight I put up is the one to gulp down the sobs trying to escape my throat.

“How’s that, whore? You like that?” Hailey hisses. “Think about that next time you want to fuck someone else’s man!”

She spits in my face, and they shove me to the ground. I can feel the sand and rocks dig into the flesh of my bare knees. My neck cranes, and I grimace at the pain before my head is jerked back violently by Elizabeth yanking me by my hair.

“Apologize, you slut! Tell Hailey you’re sorry for screwing around with her man!”

The thought of me owing her an apology is such a joke. What about him? He chose to be with me over her.

“Do it, bitch!” Elizabeth screams as she tightens her grip and pulls my hair harder. Hairs are ripping out of my scalp, but I don’t answer. I won’t give her what she wants. Not yet, at least. Then she reaches down and rips my earring from my left ear, throwing it to the ground in her rage. I let out a small cry at the pain as warm blood from my earlobe trickles down my neck. Things are no longer comical—not that I ever thought they were—and I know they’re far from finished with me.

I glance up and see the lights of several phones all pointed in my direction. They’re videoing all of this like I’m some freak show type of entertainment.

“Get your phone, Hailey. Take some pictures of this bitch getting what she deserves.”

Closing my eyes, I try to keep myself under control before looking back up at them. The unspoken challenge in their eyes taunts me; it begs for me to antagonize them further. I shouldn’t, but I do. I say words that mean nothing to me anyway.

“I’m sorry for making your man come more times in a few weekends than you ever will in his lifetime!” I shout smugly.

I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. My impulsivity won over. All I want to do is hurt her; humiliate her in front of everyone, even if it means putting my promiscuous ways on display.

I hold back the tears that want to come, realizing just how humiliating all of this is for me.

Hailey kicks me in the chest, forcing me backward onto the dirty ground. She holds her phone out, taking pictures of me as I try to gain my bearings. I hear my heart pulsate in my ears, and anxiety rushes through me. My instincts say to get up, but I don’t. Any bravery I had is long gone, but, to tell the truth, I don’t think it was ever really there.

For once, I wish I were invisible. I don’t want this. I know that now. I thought if they could have their way with me that they’d somehow lose interest, but looking up at them I can plainly see that this is only adding fuel to their fire.

Elizabeth reaches down, digging her nails into my arm and screaming wildly at me as she struggles to pull me back up. “Get the hell up, you whore, and fight back! You’re making this way too easy. Where’s the fun in that?” She laughs, looking back at the small group crowded around us.

Grabbing another handful of my hair, she lifts her right hand up and backhands me again with all the force she can garner. I fall to the ground, bracing myself with my hands. My face is inches from the dirt and rocks, and before I can push myself back up her knee digs in between my shoulder blades, pinning me down. My face collides with hundreds of little jagged edges, and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

Giving up, I don’t struggle under her or try to get away. I completely detach from all the pain, all the degradation, and lie there in defeat. For the moment, the humiliation and shame I should feel is absent, but I know it will come. It always does. Searing blows to my ribs on both sides rock my body and I realize they’re kicking me. After long minutes of pain my body goes still, and I hear the rocks crunching beneath their feet.

“Next time you think about fucking someone’s man, remember tonight, whore! We’ll happily kick your narrow ass again any day!” Elizabeth shouts as car doors slam shut. The sounds of wheels kicking up dirt and gravel as they rev their engines and speed out onto the dark blacktop road fill the air. The grit slides beneath my nails as I dig my fingers into the dirt. With shaky arms, I struggle to push myself up, but my body rejects my efforts. I cough and the pain that seizes me is too much to bear. Allowing my body to drop back down heavily, I close my eyes. The dim light from the moon disappears slowly, bleeding into blackness behind my eyes.

***

My eyelids begin to flutter open when I hear a soft male voice. I hear words, but my brain can’t register their meaning. I can focus only on the pain shooting through my entire body and the taste of blood in my mouth. Gentle hands roll me over, warm arms envelop me, and soft fingers brush the hair from my face. I breathe in intense warmth and the smell of peppermint. My eyes can’t focus, but even in this foggy state the immense pressure of his gaze upon me is undeniable. My body wants, but fails to respond to the embrace.

“Hey, open your eyes. Look at me, Jessica. I’m going to help you, okay? It’s me, Jace,” I hear him whisper as my mind starts to resurface from the depths of darkness. He pulls me up, supporting me when my knees buckle. “Come on, it’s okay. I can carry you.”

… Continued…

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by Kathryn Perez
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THERAPY

by Kathryn Perez

4.9 stars – 181 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Sometimes you have to get lost in order to be found…

I’m needy. I’m broken. Cutting breaks through my numbness, but only opens more wounds.

Depression, self-harm, bullying….that’s my reality. Sex and guys….that’s my escape.

The space between the truth and lies is blurred leaving me torn, lost and confused. And while the monsters that live in my head try to beat me — the two men that I love try to save me.

This is my story of friendship, love, heartache, and the grueling journey that is mental illness.

WARNING: Due to possible triggering descriptions of self-harm and some sexual situations this book is not recommended for anyone under the age of 17 years old.

5-star praise for Therapy:

“…a beautiful journey between the dark and light…an insiders look at the world of mental illness, love, relationships, and life…”

“…Heart-wrenching at times, but so worth it… ”

“…deals with some of the hardest subjects that so many struggle with…It’s a roller coaster of emotions that you simply can’t put down…”

an excerpt from

Therapy

by Kathryn Perez

 

Copyright © 2014 by Kathryn Perez and published here with her permission

PART ONE
DARKNESS

“Depression is a sneaky, evil bitch. She creeps in when you least expect it and snakes her way throughout the corridors of your mind while feeding on the light of your soul. She shows up during your most difficult times, only making them harder to shoulder. Sometimes, I wish depression was a living, breathing, tangible being, so I could wrap my hands around her throat and squueze ’till all that’s left in her pools of darkness is nothingness, rendering her powerless to ever hurt me again.

                                            – Jessica

Chapter One

“The small words hurt the most.”

—Kris Harte

Jessica

Gripping my journal, I flip through the pages of my written pain. Putting pen to paper is comforting to me; my journal is the only place I can really be myself, the only place I can release my demons and voice my fears. Trying to forget summer break, I push away the thoughts of Brian and the other guys that used me for sex these past couple of months. The heartache they caused is nothing compared to the pain I’ll face today.

Senior year. My last year of hell on earth is upon me. This morning I have to step inside the hallways of my own personal nightmare. The fear I feel is almost tangible. Writing will help ease it, but I know it won’t be enough. I place my hand over my lower stomach and run my fingers across my scars. I focus on the blank page before me and start to write.

Faces

Familiar places

Trapped within these walls

Taunting me

Trapping me

Laughter filling the halls

Not much longer

It will soon end

Can’t let them know

They win

Broken

Beat down

Their derisions

Circling all around

Block it out

Push it down

Keep building these defenses

Brick by brick

My emotions bound

Seeing a stranger

When I look in the mirror

Lost and alone

My soul pleading

Desperate to find a home

***

I sit in my car, staring at the front steps of Jenson High School as dread washes over me. The drive here was nothing but minutes filled with anxiety.

Only one more year. I can do this. Just one more year and I’ll be free of this hell on earth forever.

The past three years were nearly unbearable, and I can’t imagine this year will be any different. I grab my backpack and push my car door open. The parking lot’s filled with people milling around, chattering about senior year, eyeballing each other’s outfits, and sizing each other up. One clique bleeds into another clique, and so on. Keeping a low profile is important to me, so I’ve chosen to wear a plain pair of skinny jeans and a simple white T-shirt; I don’t belong to any of the cliques.

Because I’m invisible.

I barely exist.

A loud engine rumbles as a huge truck pulls up in the

parking spot beside mine, startling me. I look over to see that it’s none other than Jace Collins, superstar athlete and megapopular boyfriend to my worst enemy. His door opens and he jumps out, throwing his backpack over his broad shoulder. He might be with the biggest bitch in school, but God, the guy is like a huge magnetic force made up of sexual tension and dimples. By the time I realize I’m staring, it’s too late; he’s noticed me ogling him. A small grin stretches across his face and I blush, snapping my eyes away. I turn and start walking toward the school when I hear her.

“Oh look, it’s Jenson High’s school slut. How lovely!” Elizabeth shouts, loud enough to draw attention my way.

I clench my backpack strap, keeping my gaze forward. I can feel her eyes gunning a hole through the back of my head. This is the only time of day when I’m visible. When I’m in the cross-hairs of Elizabeth Brant’s clique of mean girls, I’m a huge blaring bull’s-eye. Engaging with her is pointless. She never gives in or lets up. Now, everyone within earshot stares and laughs at me. Taking in a deep breath, I try blocking it all out. I can hear her spitting more venom my way as she gets closer, and her sidekick Hailey joins in the taunts.

“How was your summer, Jessssssica? How many guys did you add to your list, huh?”

Their laughter fills the air around me, and then I hear him. Jace. He’s been stepping in for the past couple of years to shut them up when they talk shit to me. The first time he did it, I was stunned. Why would he care what they said to me?

I’m no one.

I barely exist.

“Okay, enough of that bullshit. It’s the first day of school. Do you both have to be such assholes?”

I don’t turn around or acknowledge his act of kindness. I’m thankful, but I can never tell him that. If she saw me talking to him, it would be a disaster. I don’t know why, but every time I make eye contact with him I get butterflies in my stomach. Of course, he’s never flirted with me like so many of the other guys do. I know why they do it, and so does everyone else, but Jace has never treated me like a slut or piece of trash. He’s as close to a gentleman as a teenage guy can be.

Last year, when we were paired together in chemistry class, Elizabeth was pissed off. She pinned me down with her stare for the entire hour, but Jace ignored her and rolled his eyes. When class was over, he got up and gave me a small smile before walking away. It was the one time that I hadn’t felt like a nobody. For that one hour I’d felt present and not so closed down. It was easier to breathe—it felt like what I assumed school should feel like.

Jace remains a mystery to me. I have no idea why he treats me like a normal girl, but every time he does, my heart beats a little stronger and a little faster. I hope one day I have the opportunity to thank him. Until then, I’ll keep my gratitude safely tucked away.

Chapter Two

“Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets.”

—Paul Tornier

Jessica

   I close my eyes as the blood runs down my stomach, the pain oozing out with it. This is what I want, what I need. Otherwise I’m numb, feeling nothing. The pain and depression stays suppressed until I can release it. It gives me a high and a rush that I crave every morning before I go to school. I know when I walk through those doors each day that I have to flip a switch inside and turn it all off just to make it through. My mom drinks coffee with a shot of liquor to start her day.

I cut myself.

I shove my notebook in my book bag and mentally prepare for day two of dodging Elizabeth Brant and her posse of mean girls. Some days, I wish I could just meet them all somewhere and let them beat the hell out of me; they could spit all of their poison my way and be done with it. If I knew it would make them stop, I’d do it in a minute. My senior year of high school has barely begun, yet I’m already counting down the days ‘til it ends. For the past three years, school has imprisoned me.

I just want it to be over.

Every day I pray that they’ll forget about me, and I’ll really become invisible. But they never do. I do everything I can to keep attention away from myself in order to avoid their radar. It’s always futile—Elizabeth is merciless. I’ve never understood how a girl who is so beautiful on the outside can be so ugly and evil on the inside. How all of her admirers can’t see her for what she really is will forever be a mystery to me. But I know better than anyone how easy it can be to fool people and hide your darkest secrets inside.

Because I do it every day.

I head into first period English and sit at the back of the classroom like I always do. I shuffle through my book bag and get my notebook out just as I hear them. Their banter is unmistakable.

“Oh my God, Hailey, did you see him this weekend? Jace was on fire in the game, although he always is. I rewarded him afterward, of course. Then he was really on fire.”

The bitch posse giggles as Elizabeth goes on about her boyfriend and the school’s quarterback, Jace Collins. They’re the “it couple” around the school. Jace is Mr. Popular and, of course, Elizabeth is Ms. Popular. What he sees in her, I have no idea. Well, aside from her long, luxurious blond hair, flawless bronzed skin, perfect body, and crystal clear blue eyes. But she radiates bitch, regardless of her appearance.

Elizabeth glances back at me as she takes her seat. “So, Jessica, how much slutting around did you do this weekend?”

I dart my eyes down toward my notebook, refusing to reply to her taunts. Trying to stick up for myself only makes it worse. My long jet-black hair falls down around my face, creating a curtain of defense, and I doodle aimlessly on my notebook, ignoring all of her comments.

Something hits my arm and falls onto my desk, then again, and again. I look up and Elizabeth is laughing as Hailey, her partner in crime, balls up another tiny piece of paper. I roll my eyes at them and look back down at my notebook, swiping the pieces of paper onto the floor.

Brian Wheeler turns, looking at me with an assholish smirk on his face, and waggles his eyebrows up and down suggestively. My stomach rolls along with my eyes as I look away from him. Brian is yet another example of a relationship gone bad. The fact that I’ve slept with him makes me want to puke.

Elizabeth turns around, mumbling something about what a skank I am just as Jace walks in and sits down beside her. Hailey flicks another balled-up piece of paper at me and he scrunches up his eyebrows, glaring at her. She grins back at him and shrugs her shoulders innocently.

“Hailey, don’t be such a bitch,” he says in an obviously irritated tone.

Thank you, Jace.

You’re a mystery to me, Jace.

Why do you care, Jace?

Jace, Jace, Jace.

“Jace Collins, don’t talk to my best friend like that! Hailey is only warding off the infestation of STDs sitting behind us,” Elizabeth hisses.

He looks back at me and mouths the word sorry. I don’t reply; no expression, no all-knowing look, nothing.

He’s the epitome of male perfection with his sandy, dark blond hair and light blue eyes. He’s toned and muscular, but not in a bulky way, and he’s tall with wide shoulders. Not only is he the star of the football team, but also the baseball and male swim teams too. He’s an athlete and pretty much has a clear-cut future with an athletic scholarship to a major university of his choosing.

The only reason I think he’s ever nice to me is because I’m on the girls’ swim team. I steer clear of all team sports, for the most part, and I’m definitely a loner. I’ve been competitively swimming for four years now, and it’s the only thing that I really enjoy besides writing. School is a means to an end for me, and I can’t wait for it to be over. This place is like a sick form of karmic punishment for something I must’ve done in a former life.

After English class, we all file out. I walk slowly, allowing Elizabeth to exit first. Hopefully she’ll forget that I’m behind her. I make my way to my locker only to find notes reading WHORE, along with other expletives in big bold letters, taped to it. I rip the papers off quickly just before Elizabeth walks by, shouldering me hard into the cold metal lockers.

“Oh, excuse me, Jessica. I didn’t see you there,” Elizabeth jeers. “You should wear a slut warning sign that lets the rest of us know you’re there!” she laughs as her followers surround me.

I look to the floor, hugging my books to my chest and shut it all out. This is how I deal with her, with all of them. I lock down, shut it out, and wait for it to be over. She flicks a strand of my hair from my face, and I flinch.

“We all know you slept with Harrison this weekend. You know that Hailey has been seeing him for quite a while. Did you really think you could keep that from us? Huh?” she demands, inching forward. “You better keep your skanky ass away from him. Do you understand me, Jessica?” She’s so close that her words spray flecks of spit onto my face. “He doesn’t want you! None of them want you, bitch!” She slaps her hand on my locker mere inches from the side of my face, and whispers quietly as she leans in closer to my ear.

“Don’t you ever just think about ending it all and sparing us the repulsion of looking at you every day? You’d be doing everyone here a service.” She glares at me with hatred burning in her pools of ice-cold blue. My eyes quickly dart back and forth, looking for an out. I feel hot, too hot, and my skin is clammy.

Breathe.   

Then I hear his voice.

“Liz, leave her the hell alone already!” he scolds, gesturing for her to make her way to second period. “Remember what I said, skank,” she exclaims as she struts off down the hallway.

I look up to see that Jace is still standing here looking at me, his hands shoved into his jean pockets. I feel vulnerable and embarrassed. Why is he causing this awkward, silent moment to happen? I look away nervously and turn back to my locker, opening it quickly with shaky hands.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Liz and her tribe of bitches,” he says as I rustle through my locker, stalling so I don’t have to turn around and make eye contact with him. My hands are trembling, and I’m trying to regain some form of composure after the face-off with Elizabeth.

Just breathe, Jessica.

“Don’t let her rattle you so much. I didn’t hear what she was saying, but I promise you her bark is far more scary than her bite.”

He has no idea what his girlfriend is really like on the inside.

“Are you ready for swim this year? I hope we kick ass like we did last year,” he says, and I wonder why he’s trying to carry on a casual conversation with me. The bell rings.

Thank goodness.

I spin around and look at him with my mask of fake confidence. “Thanks, Jace. And yeah, I’m ready for swim team. I really have to get to class, though,” I mutter. His mouth turns up into a grin and he walks away in the opposite direction.

What was that all about?

Why do you care, Jace? Why?

If Elizabeth sees him carrying on a full-blown conversation with me, she’ll go apeshit. I’m like the plague around here, and the star quarterback talking to me is definitely not a good idea.

The day moves at an arduous pace, but I continue to avoid Elizabeth. I’m not sure what’s worse—this place and the way I seem to be the butt of everyone’s jokes or home where I’m invisible to everyone.

I go to my car and drive home, blasting Seether out of my speakers. I wonder what kind of day Mom is having. She’ll either be drunk, or be Martha Stewart; it’s a fifty-fifty chance.

I stopped caring a long time ago. When she’s not drunk, she tries too hard—it’s smothering. She overcompensates for her lack of parenting on the days she’s drunk as shit. I pull into the driveway and see her sitting on the porch, smoking a cigarette, and holding a glass of wine. There are kids outside playing next door where new neighbors are moving in. Their ball is in my way as I try to park, so I maneuver around it the best I can. A little girl smiles and waves at me as she retrieves the purple ball. I look up as I get out of my car and see Mom smile and wave sloppily at me.

Drunk day today…

“Hi, Mom,” I say hurriedly as I walk past her.

“Hi, sweetie. How wassss your day?” she slurs.

“Great, Mom. It was great!” I say, lying straight through my teeth. Telling her the truth is pointless.

I go inside to my room and slam the door behind me. After locking it, I reach over and pull out my hidden box of razors, alcohol swabs, ointment, and bandages. I flip my iPod docking station on and fall down onto my bed. Hinder plays as I pull up my shirt. Unbuttoning my jeans, I pull them down just barely enough to expose the fresh cut from this morning. I have to be really careful not to let the cuts get infected, so I clean and bandage them daily. It’s a normal routine for me.

I know I’ll have to put on a happy face when my dad gets home. He doesn’t really pay me any attention, but I always feel like he has me under a microscope, looking for any imperfection or mistake. I do my best to avoid him like everyone else in my life. The weekend is the only time I socialize, and that usually involves a guy. Sneaking out every night on the weekends is the norm for me. I’m usually cruising the back roads with whatever guy I’m seeing at the time, which changes often. I’m always too clingy, so they always run scared after they get what they want from me. Sex is my way of connecting, another way to feel something. I guess sex equals love for me since I have no idea what love really feels like. It’s my version of love and it fills a void, so I continue the vicious cycle of sleeping with every guy I go out with. The fact that guys have never noticed my scars really should tell me that they don’t care at all. I know it’s usually dark and they aren’t that visible, but to this day not one guy has noticed. If they have, they’ve never said anything.

After cleaning up my cut, I place a bandage on it and button my pants back up. Placing the box of items back in my nightstand, I pull out my journal and decide to write. I rarely understand why I feel the way I feel every day. Writing is my only true form of expression free from the fear of judgment. I can pour all of my feelings, fears, and frustrations into the pages of my journal and know that they’re all safe from the bullies that make my daily life a living hell. My secrets must stay hidden, just like my pain.

Pulling the cap off of the pen with my teeth, I chew on it anxiously as I write.

You only know the mask I wear

Who am I?

Do I even know?

Black…White… No gray

I either love or I hate

When I want to hold on, I claw instead

No sense of purpose

Eyes that are dead

Regret and rejection I swallow down

I just want someone to love me

Emotional pain creeps all around

When someone hurts me, it hurts forever

Be. Me. For. A. Day.

Let me walk beside you

Let me look over

See the me you see

Then you can walk beside me

See the you that I see

I’ll keep filling the hole in my soul with IOUs

While you keep filling it with I Hate Yous

I shut my journal and text Harrison. We had a good time this past weekend, no matter what Elizabeth had to say about it. Having someone makes me feel happy, even if it’s always short-lived.

Me: Hey, I had fun last weekend. You want to hang out this weekend?

He texts right back, and I instantly feel better. Happier even.

Harrison: Hey, babe. Yeah, I had a blast with you. You really know how to show a guy a good time! I’m not sure about this weekend. Jace and the guys invited me out. It’s just some sort of guys’ night out thing, but I’ll catch you some other time. 😉

My smile fades along with my happiness, and I instantly feel rejected. I want him to want to be with me, not the guys. Why does this always happen? Why do I need them so badly? Why do I want them so badly?

It’s always the same. Every guy I date, I feel consumed by some sort of freakish need. I know it’s not normal, but I can’t make it stop. In the end it either pushes them away, or causes me to go off on an emotionally charged rant toward them. I regret it every time, but the cycle is on repeat nevertheless. I usually talk with them online because they don’t speak to me at school. No one really does—I’m bad for everyone’s reputation. Elizabeth makes sure of that. One day last year, Brian sat with me at lunch and Elizabeth and her group made him sorry he ever did.

My phone buzzes and I see that I have fifteen notifications on Instagram. That’s weird. I never get much action on any of the social media sites. I have no real friends to speak of. I tap the icon and open the app. I touch the little notification bubble and fifteen comments or likes pop up. It’s a picture of me. Shock freezes the blood in my veins as I scroll down. SlutPics123 posted a picture of me hanging myself. A quote bubble above my head says DEAD SLUT HANGING.

They follow me everywhere I go; I can’t escape them! I know Elizabeth and Hailey did this, but this is a new low. Their weapons aren’t illegal, yet they cut me deeper than a blade ever could. Hiding behind electronic shields, they use their words like swords. I wonder what’s worse—the invisible scars they leave or the visible scars I inflict upon myself?

Chapter Three

“I have no one. I need someone.”

—Amanda Todd

Jessica

Another week of school has inched by and I’ve done my best to ignore the picture they put up on Instagram and the ridicule that’s followed it. Being silent may seem weak, but staying silent takes more strength than they’ll ever know.

I’m hoping Harrison will be able to see me this weekend. I’ve tucked a note in his locker, letting him know I’ll be home waiting for his call if he decides he wants to hang out.

He doesn’t really talk to me much at school, which I guess I understand. It would only cause him unwanted drama. Elizabeth and her minions have everyone at school convinced that I’m an infestation of STDs.

Mom is Martha Stewart today, which means a cooked meal for dinner. She’s humming and prattling around in the kitchen like we’re the Cleaver family. Dad will be home soon. He’s having a business partner over for dinner, which also means Mom will be on her best behavior. I’ll stay huddled up in my room for as long as possible until I‘m forced to smile and interact with everyone.

My brother is the star of the family and can do no wrong in Dad’s eyes. Jeff always gets the attention from Dad that I crave. I had hoped that when he left for the University of Texas Dad would finally begin to see me, but that didn’t happen.

I hear my phone buzzing and grab it, hoping it’s Harrison. I swipe the screen, revealing his sexy, tan face.

Harrison: Hey, you wanna hook up tonight after all?

Me: Sure! Where and what time?

Harrison: Meet me down at the parking spot by the water tower at 9 p.m. C you there.

I’m instantly excited, and start rummaging through my closet to find something hot to wear for him. I grab a black miniskirt, red halter top, and my laciest underwear. He never has condoms, so I’ll have to stop and get some at the 7-Eleven on my way there. It’s a given that we’ll have sex. I know it sounds horrible, but I don’t feel bad about it. Guys want it, and if you don’t give it to them, they don’t want you. I want him to want me, so sex is necessary.

I just want to be wanted.

Loved.

After a painstakingly boring meal with Mom, Dad, and his business partner, I change and head out. I tell my parents I’ll be back by curfew, but they won’t notice if I’m late.

I go to the 7-Eleven and buy a pack of condoms. A few get shoved in my purse and I toss the rest in my glove compartment. I check my makeup in the mirror and run my fingers through my long dark hair. I stare into my hazel eyes and wonder what other people see when they look at me.

Do they only see a slut?

A weird girl?

Are they really even looking at all?

I shake the thoughts away and save them for a later time when I can write them in my journal.

I put my little Honda into drive and head out to the town water tower. It’s always been a popular parking place for the local teens. As I get closer, I notice a couple of different cars and wonder why there are people out here so early; it’s usually later before anyone starts showing up. I pull in farther and park.

I scan the area and see a couple glowing cigarettes, but can’t make out who the people are smoking them. My heart rate kicks up; I hope they aren’t I Hate Jessica club members.

Me: Harrison, where are you? I’m here.

About five minutes pass by, but I hear nothing back from him. I decide to wait a little longer, because I really want to see him. I jump when I hear a knock at my window, and turn to see Elizabeth staring back at me with a smug grin on her face. My heart jams into my throat, and my breathing speeds up into high gear. At least when she corners me at school there’s usually an out. It’s a crowded, public place with adults around to prevent any serious situations. But this? This is very different. I have no idea why she’s here, how she knew I was here, or what she wants with me.

She beats on my window as her friends circle around my car. I quickly start my engine and throw the gear in reverse. I need to get the hell out of here. Just as I start backing up, Harrison pulls in right behind me, blocking my exit. I’m now completely boxed in. Maybe this is best, like I’ve always wanted. She can do whatever she wants to me and be done with it.

I really don’t care anymore.

“Get out of the damn car, whore!”

I turn and glance toward the front of my car just as Hailey pours a beer all over the hood. Harrison walks up puts his arm around Hailey affectionately, and my stomach clenches in anguish.

How could he do this? Did he trick me so that I’d come out here and they could torture me? Why would he be so cruel? I’ve always done everything he’s asked of me. I’ve always tried to make him happy. How could he do this to me? Tears start to well up in my eyes, but I quickly get myself under control, not wanting them to see me break. I reach over and open my door, step out, and am instantly shoved back against the cold metal of my car.

“I told you earlier this week that Harrison was Hailey’s. You just wouldn’t listen, would you, skank? Hailey saw your texts to him. Did you really think he was going to keep seeing you? He’s not going to lose the captain of the cheerleading squad for the captain of the blow job team,” Elizabeth hisses sarcastically.

Everyone laughs as I stand there. Just before I open my mouth to antagonize her, Bentley comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her, kissing her neck. Has she broken up with Jace, or is she being the whore that she always claims me to be?  Bravery finds its way to my tongue, and I do the stupidest thing I could ever do.

I poke the snake when it’s ready to strike.

“Where’s Jace, Elizabeth? Does he know you’re out here screwing around on him with Bentley? Maybe I’ll let him know and he can be my next fuck. I bet I can show him things he never dreamed of when he was with you.” I smirk and cross my arms over my chest. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I await her response.

Her eyes grow wide and she gasps as everyone starts laughing and heckling her over my comment. “Bentley and I are just friends, you stupid bitch. Mind your own damn business. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway?” She slaps me with all her strength and heat creeps across my face. Grabbing me by the shoulders, she slams me into the car even harder.

“All of a sudden you’ve got some newfound courage tonight, huh? You’re going to regret ever saying that shit to me. And if you insinuate that I was doing anything other than hanging with friends to Jace, tonight will feel like a walk in the park compared to what will happen to you next.”

She grabs me by my arm and yanks me away from the car.

“Hailey, get your ass over here and help me. This shit is all your damn fault anyway. Your boyfriend’s the one that can’t keep his dick in his pants!”

I look into her evil eyes defiantly, practically begging her to beat the hell out of me.

Don’t do it, Jessica. Don’t make it worse.

“Go fuck yourself, Elizabeth,” I reply in a raspy, nervy voice. I make it worse.

I feel like I’m moving in slow motion as I let her manhandle me, not trying to defend myself at all. I don’t care, so I just let her and Hailey do whatever they want.

Maybe Harrison will feel sorry for me and want me afterward.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the pathetic thoughts rolling through my equally pathetic mind. Their laughter ebbs away slowly as I slip into my locked-down world of numbness. I open my eyes, and despite my efforts to block it all out, my stomach twists in anticipation of what will happen next. Harrison glances up at me, his eyes full of mockery and disgust.

“Act like a whore, Jessica, and you’ll keep getting treated like one,” he spouts.

How I thought he liked me, I don’t know. Hailey and Elizabeth are dragging me along while everyone else hoots and hollers. I look back at Harrison with hatred in my eyes, in my heart.

“I hate you, Harrison!”

He laughs and grabs his crotch. “You sure weren’t hating on this last weekend, baby,” he mocks. Joe Fitzer, another guy from the football team, pats Harrison on the shoulder and laughs. “Hey, Jessica, I’m single. Maybe you can show me the same TLC you showed my homeboy Harrison.” Joe winks at me as he takes a draw from his beer.

Hailey grips my arm tighter, hearing the guys’ words. “Shut the hell up, you horny bastards! No one cares how you let this skank-ass tramp blow you or how you want to get into her STD-infested panties!”

Elizabeth spins me around, grabs my wrists in her left hand, then rears up and slaps me on the left side of my face again. The only fight I put up is the one to gulp down the sobs trying to escape my throat.

“How’s that, whore? You like that?” Hailey hisses. “Think about that next time you want to fuck someone else’s man!”

She spits in my face, and they shove me to the ground. I can feel the sand and rocks dig into the flesh of my bare knees. My neck cranes, and I grimace at the pain before my head is jerked back violently by Elizabeth yanking me by my hair.

“Apologize, you slut! Tell Hailey you’re sorry for screwing around with her man!”

The thought of me owing her an apology is such a joke. What about him? He chose to be with me over her.

“Do it, bitch!” Elizabeth screams as she tightens her grip and pulls my hair harder. Hairs are ripping out of my scalp, but I don’t answer. I won’t give her what she wants. Not yet, at least. Then she reaches down and rips my earring from my left ear, throwing it to the ground in her rage. I let out a small cry at the pain as warm blood from my earlobe trickles down my neck. Things are no longer comical—not that I ever thought they were—and I know they’re far from finished with me.

I glance up and see the lights of several phones all pointed in my direction. They’re videoing all of this like I’m some freak show type of entertainment.

“Get your phone, Hailey. Take some pictures of this bitch getting what she deserves.”

Closing my eyes, I try to keep myself under control before looking back up at them. The unspoken challenge in their eyes taunts me; it begs for me to antagonize them further. I shouldn’t, but I do. I say words that mean nothing to me anyway.

“I’m sorry for making your man come more times in a few weekends than you ever will in his lifetime!” I shout smugly.

I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. My impulsivity won over. All I want to do is hurt her; humiliate her in front of everyone, even if it means putting my promiscuous ways on display.

I hold back the tears that want to come, realizing just how humiliating all of this is for me.

Hailey kicks me in the chest, forcing me backward onto the dirty ground. She holds her phone out, taking pictures of me as I try to gain my bearings. I hear my heart pulsate in my ears, and anxiety rushes through me. My instincts say to get up, but I don’t. Any bravery I had is long gone, but, to tell the truth, I don’t think it was ever really there.

For once, I wish I were invisible. I don’t want this. I know that now. I thought if they could have their way with me that they’d somehow lose interest, but looking up at them I can plainly see that this is only adding fuel to their fire.

Elizabeth reaches down, digging her nails into my arm and screaming wildly at me as she struggles to pull me back up. “Get the hell up, you whore, and fight back! You’re making this way too easy. Where’s the fun in that?” She laughs, looking back at the small group crowded around us.

Grabbing another handful of my hair, she lifts her right hand up and backhands me again with all the force she can garner. I fall to the ground, bracing myself with my hands. My face is inches from the dirt and rocks, and before I can push myself back up her knee digs in between my shoulder blades, pinning me down. My face collides with hundreds of little jagged edges, and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

Giving up, I don’t struggle under her or try to get away. I completely detach from all the pain, all the degradation, and lie there in defeat. For the moment, the humiliation and shame I should feel is absent, but I know it will come. It always does. Searing blows to my ribs on both sides rock my body and I realize they’re kicking me. After long minutes of pain my body goes still, and I hear the rocks crunching beneath their feet.

“Next time you think about fucking someone’s man, remember tonight, whore! We’ll happily kick your narrow ass again any day!” Elizabeth shouts as car doors slam shut. The sounds of wheels kicking up dirt and gravel as they rev their engines and speed out onto the dark blacktop road fill the air. The grit slides beneath my nails as I dig my fingers into the dirt. With shaky arms, I struggle to push myself up, but my body rejects my efforts. I cough and the pain that seizes me is too much to bear. Allowing my body to drop back down heavily, I close my eyes. The dim light from the moon disappears slowly, bleeding into blackness behind my eyes.

***

My eyelids begin to flutter open when I hear a soft male voice. I hear words, but my brain can’t register their meaning. I can focus only on the pain shooting through my entire body and the taste of blood in my mouth. Gentle hands roll me over, warm arms envelop me, and soft fingers brush the hair from my face. I breathe in intense warmth and the smell of peppermint. My eyes can’t focus, but even in this foggy state the immense pressure of his gaze upon me is undeniable. My body wants, but fails to respond to the embrace.

“Hey, open your eyes. Look at me, Jessica. I’m going to help you, okay? It’s me, Jace,” I hear him whisper as my mind starts to resurface from the depths of darkness. He pulls me up, supporting me when my knees buckle. “Come on, it’s okay. I can carry you.”

… Continued…

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