FicWad

I watched him move across the room, smooth as silk, like always. The way his eyes settled on each and every person, slowly and calmly. Although planning something. Maybe I was the only one who noticed it, but it seemed there was always a hint of...regret about him. Yeah, regret. But he hid it well. He was good at hiding. What he didn't know was that I could see past it. I could see past the shell he had made and through the sickness, the slyness. The grinning, mocking liar he succeeded to be. When I looked at him I saw Brendon. The real Brendon. The one who felt guilty and ugly for it. The one who would look at me with those deep, passionate eyes and tell me he loved me. My breathing shook as I thought of it. I closed my eyes and thought back. It was proving to be the only thing that kept me alive these days.

"Just sit back, just sit back. Just sit back and relax. Just sit back, just sit back. Just sit back and relapse again."

I awoke to the face of a woman I didn't recognise.
"Sorry, I didn't realise you were asleep, sir."
I adjusted my eyes and noticed that the woman was not a woman, nay just a young girl, none under twelve.
"That's quite alright dear."
I replied sleepily. I should have known not to chance sleep. It looked late now. There was but few people left in the once packed hall of dancers. The young girl spoke again unexpectedly.
"I was just wondering, I seem to have lost my father. And, well it's just, everybody else was dancing and.."
She trailed off. I sat up and thought for just a moment. Brendon wouldn't like me too. But he appeared to have left. I smiled at the nervous little lady.
"Of course little madam." I agreed "I presume you would like my help to find him, your father?" She nodded enthusiastically. I stood up and the girl immediately took my hand. "What does you father look like?" I asked awkwardly. I felt very uncomfortable but also sorry for the child so I did not pull my hand away. "Most people say he looks a lot like me." She beamed proudly. She was rather tan, and had hair of a golden brown, short and messy - but also straight. "But he's taller than me. And stronger." I nodded. I didn't on any level believe we would find him, but I did have faith that a man would recognise his own daughter. After searching the entire hall a good few times both she and I began to get worried. It seemed he was nowhere. I decided to take her quickly outside to check, but if he was not I pondered on what I could say to her. But with what I first though was luck, the first step outside led us to a tall, tan man whom shouted "Emelie!" at the sight of his daughter. At first I was pleased, of course. But I soon realised this man was anything but happy to see me. Not a moment after he had spoken to me had I smelt the booze on his breath too. Emelie had moved none from me, obviously sensing something was anything but right. The man shouted and swore at me, I did not understand a word he was speaking towards me, all but what vaguely resembled the word "rape". I was taken slightly aback at this, I had quite happily never been accused of raping somebody's twelve year old daughter before and I had never planned on being so. By now people were beginning to stare, lots of people. I began to get paranoid and scared. I shook the girl away from me in my panic and backed slowly away from the disgrace of a man. Before long people from the crowd that had formed suddenly around us joined in with the accusation, some of them laughing. The more I tried to move away from the man the harder they pushed me around. It wasn't long until I was in amongst them. I couldn't see anything, and my asthma was starting to play up. I would've had a panic attack there and then, if the police hadn't come along.

I woke up in the same place I usually did so, my bed. But Brendon was with me. I was frightened for a moment, but then I realised he was asleep. It also took me a moment to realise I was wearing close to nothing. It didn't, however, take me long to realise what must have happened. I groaned, my voice croaky and dry, and got out of the bed. I shoved on skinnies and a shirt. This was extremely embarrassing, and I had never told anyone before but I had a ridiculously small clothes size, I had to shop in bloody teenage girls categories. This meant of course that I always shopped online, but I would rather do so anyway so that didn't phase me. So I often got slagged about wearing girly clothes. It wasn't something I aimed to do, I hated it. But no matter how hard I tired I could never put on weight. I didn't like to eat, I was never really in the mood. It sounds rather serious, but it really isn't that big a deal. It's also quite creepy, as my veins show clearly through my skin, which is already pale enough. I though about this for a mere second, but with my fragile state..was it healthy to get beaten to near death almost every night? I think not. I may have cried then, I cannot remember. I cry a lot. I felt slightly odd, and when I stepped into the bathroom but to innocently do my makeup I saw why. What seemed like half my entire body was caked in dry blood. Suddenly I remembered the night before. "Awww, shit."
As I cleaned the blood away I uncovered a gallery of bruises and cuts, I had no way of knowing which ones I had gained from yesterday, which ones I myself may have caused and which ones I owned from Brenny, but they all stung like hell to the touch. I sighed and got on with my eyeliner. Hopefully Brendon wouldn't wake for a while yet, he seemed to have a slight hangover so I prayed for him not to wake while I spent the golden hours of the day unharmed.