FicWad

Four weeks later.

It's been exactly four weeks, sixteen hours, forty five minutes and thirty five seconds since Gerard disappeared from my life after I broke up with him. I have spent the majority of that time lying in bed staring at the ceiling like a zombie. I don't have the energy (or the will) to get out of bed even to take a shower, thus, I smell like.....well, I smell like someone who hasn't showered in four weeks.

Dad has no idea what's going on in my life. He's too wrapped up in his new stripper. Literally. Their bedroom is right down the hall from mine so I hear EVERYTHING that goes on in there. To stop myself from being more scarred then I already am I sit on the roof at night. Sometimes I hope I'll fall and end up killing myself if only to stop the aching in my heart.

I didn't know breaking up was so hard. I have to keep telling myself it was the right decision, that's the only way I can breath these days. I haven't spoken to Jacob since the break-up even though he has tried to contact me. I just can't be bothered to talk about my "feelings" with anyone. I just want to forget.

"Stella?" Cindy-at least, I think that's her name, bursts into my room wearing a bright pink silk robe with a mug of coffee. "It's time to get up!"

I curse silently. She's been doing this everyday for the past four weeks. I have to say, she's the only one in this household who's noticed my mood. It's more then I can say for my dear father. I seriously don't know how he became the sheriff. He wouldn't notice a bank robbery if it happened under his nose.

"You need to get out of bed, honey. You smell like a garbage can!" she giggles. Subtlety is not one of her strong points.

I roll over to the other side and she sits on the edge of my bed. "What's wrong, honey?" she asks with concern. "I've noticed you've been all sad for ever now."

I pull the covers over my head and try to ignore her. She prods me with her finger. "I'm not leaving until you tell me," she says stubbornly.

"Go away," I say in muffled voice.

"Is it boy trouble?" she wonders. "Only a guy can have such an effect on a girl." She sighs. "Believe me, I know."

I cock an eyebrow in mild interest. "Men," she continues, "cause us girls the most pain, but we can't seem to live without them, can we?"

That's probably the deepest thing I've ever heard her say. I get up slowly and squint at her. She looks at me wide-eyed, probably because my hair is sticking up in every direction. I rub my eyes and yawn loudly.

"Goodness me," she tuts. "We must get you into a shower and run a comb through that hair."

I grunt in reply. "Is it man trouble?" she asks in a soft voice. "You can tell me if it is."

To me she looks like a giant pink bunny, albeit one with concerned brown eyes. I decide to tell her.

"I broke up with my boyfriend after I found him in bed with another woman." My voice cracks up with emotion and I look down at the covers to stop myself from bursting into tears.

"Oh, honey," she gasps, looking outraged. "The dirty rat! I'll kill him! Where does he live?"

"He left," I tell her morosely.

"Left?" she repeats. "Why?"

I shrug, not wanting to go into too much detail. "He had to leave town."

"So he cheated on you and then left town? What a heartless bastard," she fumes.

I flop back onto the bed but this time she pulls me back up into a sitting position. I have to say, she's a lot stronger then she looks.

"That's it, Stella," she says determinedly, "you are not going to lie in bed and rot any longer."

I wouldn't say I was rotting, more like hiding my face from the rest of the world. Well, except when I'm forced to go to school.

"You are coming out with me tonight," she informs me firmly, "We are going to have a girls night out."

"No thanks," I mumble. "But thanks for the asking."

"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you," she says with uncharacteristic authority. "You are coming with me and that's that."

"I really don't want to," I say.

"Do you really think this boyfriend of yours is lying in bed thinking about you like you are about him?" she challenges me fiercely.

I close my eyes and say nothing. With his reputation the chances are he's not skulking around like a stroppy teenager like me.

"Thought not," she says triumphantly. "Men are dogs, Stella," she says wisely. "It's in their nature to have sex with as many woman as possible no matter the consequences."

Vampires are a lot worse, I say silently to myself. If only she knew..

"Right." She claps her hands together. "Let's get you into a nice, hot shower."

I sigh in defeat and roll out of bed. I look down at myself and grimace. Man, do I look and smell bad. Thank God Gerard isn't around to witness my downfall. I look like a hobo.

Sarah pushes me towards the door, reluctant to get too close to me. I couldn't care less, in fact, I kind of like looking like this. I guess it brings me closer to nature and stuff. Well, I wouldn't look out of place in a jungle.

Once we make it into the bathroom she throws a towel at me. "Strip," she orders.

"I usually do that without an audience present," I tell her dryly.

She giggles. "Right, but tell me if you need anything." She shuts the door behind her and is gone.

I really don't have the energy to take my clothes off and contemplate taking a shower fully dressed. In the end I somehow manage to undress myself but then I have to shave because there seems to be a forest growing on my legs. I'm also forced to pluck my eyebrows-who knew woman could be so hairy?

When I've finished showering and am dressed in clean clothes I feel a teeny bit better. Mary walks in while I'm buttoning up my shirt.

"Look at you," she grins. "How do you feel?"

"Better," I reply, honestly.

"Good....Is that what you're wearing when we go out?" She eyes my black jeans and black shirt dubiously. "You look like you're dressed for a funeral."

I shrug.

"Wait here. I'll get you something nice out of my closet."

I didn't even know she had a closet here. I wait for her to return nervously. Now, I've got nothing against her being a stripper, the only thing that bothers me is she dresses outside like she would inside while doing her job.

My fears are confirmed when she returns holding a short red sparkly number. She holds it out in front of her so I can get a better look. It's hideous.

"I love it," I tell her. I just don't care anymore. Who'll care if I go out dressed like a hooker? Not Gerard, and certainly not my father.

"It's one of my favorites," she squeals. "Here, try it on."

When I've put it one I take a look at myself in the mirror. I look as awful as I feel inside.
"I love it," I lie.

"Now for the make-up." She grabs my arm and sits me down on a chair where she spends ten minutes applying copious amounts of junk to my face.

"All done." She hands me a compact mirror and I take a peek. It's a great effort not to scream out loud. Let's just say I now resemble a transvestite. Oh well, at least no-one will recognize me.

"Come on. Let's go and have some fun," she says, taking my hand.

*

Twenty minutes later I am standing in a dimly lit nightclub. I am sitting on a stool by the bar with some sort of alcoholic beverage next to me. I think Jenny has forgotten that the legal drinking age in America is 21. Not that I care or anything, I soon polish that drink off and it's not long before a creepy looking guy is buying me more drinks.

I glance around the full club. Is it me or does the room seem to be spinning slightly? Maybe the dance floor revolves?

"Stella!" Laura yells from across the club. "Come here. I want you to meet some of my friends."

I do as I'm told and stagger towards her and a group of similarly dressed woman. Every step I take the world spins faster and I feel sick. Maybe I have the flu or something?

When I finally make it over to her I'm about to throw up.

"Is this girl who's boyfriend cheated on her?" asks a platinum blond.

Jenny nods sadly. "Yes. I've brought her here to cheer her up."

"You don't need a man, honey," trills a scary brunette wearing a shockingly short mini skirt. "Have a drink instead."

"How old is she anyway, Mindy?" asks the blond puffing a cigarette.

"I don't know," replies Mindy-Is that her name? "Does it matter?"

Blondie shrugs. "Of course not. You're never too old to get drunk!"

At this point I really want to throw up and have to excuse myself. "I'll be back," I mumble drunkenly.

"Don't take too long. I want to introduce you to some other people," says the blonde pointing to some middle-aged men standing in the corner.

I nod and stumble away. My legs feel like jelly and I can barely see straight anymore which is weird as I only had two drinks. Maybe accepting a drink form a total stranger wasn't such a good idea.

The restrooms are located near the back of the club. I amble along the wall to steady myself. I come to a shaky stop in front of two doors. I'm sure one says "men" and one says "woman" but I can't see properly anymore.

I decide to live life on the edge and walk through any one. Luckily it's empty and I make my way to a sink. After I have splashed some water on my face I take a look at myself in the mirror.

The make-up Mindy did is running down my face and my hair is stuck to my head. I realize coming out with my dads stupid girlfriends was a really bad idea.

"Hello, angel," whispers someone from behind me.

My first thought is it's Gerard. I spin around quickly-too quickly, the feeling of nausea returns full force.

To my dismay it's not Gerard, it's a man. Upon closer inspection I see it's the creepy guy who was buying me drinks.

"Are you okay?" he asks me. His voice full of concern, but his eyes are full of something else.

I suppress a shiver and nod. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" he asks again, taking a step closer.

I would take a step back but have no-where to go, something he is fully aware of. "Yeah," I say, trying to muster some courage. "My friends are waiting for me outside."

I walk forward and attempt to move past him as he is blocking my path. He refuses to budge. Panic rises in my stomach alongside the urge to throw up.

"Where are you going, angel?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

I stare at him. He is tall, well over six feet. His hair is dark brown and his eyes are an even darker shade of brown. There is a small scar over his left eyebrow. I wonder briefly how it got there.

"You're not supposed to be in here," I tell him.

He smirks. "This is the little boys room, honey."

"Really? Crap," I mutter.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone." He moves closer to me. Now he is so close I could kick him if I wanted to, but I can't because my limbs aren't working properly anymore.

"Get out of my way, pervert," I snap.

He gives me a dirty look. "What did you call me?"

"I said," I repeat loudly. "Get out of my way.............PERVERT."

In a split second he is in front of me and dragging me by the arm. "I'll give you a reason to call me a pervert, shall I?" he hisses, pulling me towards the toilets.

I try to fight him off but he is too strong. He kicks open the door and shoves me inside. I trip and fall, landing on a toilet.

He slams the cubicle door shut behind him and turns to look at me. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?" he murmurs, stroking my hair.

I slap his hands away and try to stand up. He pushes me back down again easily. "You're not going anywhere, sugar," he chuckles. "At least, not until I'm done with you."

I cannot believe this is happening to me. Never before have I felt so helpless and scared. I pray Mindy will come looking for me.

"Let me go," I plead. "Please."

He laughs darkly. "I will. Later."

He strokes the length of my arm and I close my eyes in terror. I want to scream but suddenly all the air has gone out of my lungs.

He kneels down before me and turns my face roughly towards his. "Open your eyes," he orders.

I shake my head and he squeezes my face harder. "Now," he says menacingly. I can feel his hot breath on my face and now I will myself to throw up on him. Hopefully that will put him off.

"Please don't," I beg him.

He smirks evilly and moves his face closer to mine.


Who will save poor Stella? Will it be the stupid, irresponsible stripper? Or someone else entirely?