I walk into the store, feeling uncomfortable for some reason. I wrap my jacket around myself tightly. I look down and get a shopping cart. The store seems colder and quieter than usual. I look around nervously. I feel like I'm being watched. I look around again before walking over to the food aisle and get a gallon of milk. I put it in the shopping cart and reach out to get a cup of cottage cheese but something snags my arm.
I gasp and look over. The smell of smoke fills my lungs. I close my eyes and want to disappear from this scene.
"Hey, baby," Jackson breathes in my face.
"Jackson, get the hell away."
"C'mon," he says, running his fingers through my hair. I smack his hand away. "A little talking never hurt!"
"Okay," I say, not looking at him. "I'll talk. Get the f*ck out of my face and go back to what you call an apartment."
Jackson freezes. "Are you saying I live in some sh*tty dump?"
"Maybe."
Jackson frowns. He grabs my arm with a more firm grip. My eyes widen.
"C'mon," Jackson says through gritted teeth. He pulls me hard enough for me to let go of my shopping cart. He pulls me so quickly I don't have time to say anything. He drags me out to his car. My brain finally starts working again.
"Jackson! Stop!" I say, but he covers my mouth and shoves me in the backseat. I scoot back against the other door as he gets in. He starts the car and drives away. I start hyperventilating. My anxiety is freaking out. "Jackson! Please!"
"Shut up, slut."
He pulls over and drives into a dark alleyway. I can't breathe. His car smells like smoke and it's stuffy. He climbs next to me in the backseat. He gets something from the passenger seat up front and shoves it down my throat. Vodka.
He makes me chug the bottle. Once it's finished, I lay my head on the door. I close my eyes. I know I'm not supposed to like this, but I can't think of why.
I open my eyes and drunkenly look at Jackson. I try not to close my eyes again. I want him to suffer from my glare. But why…
Jackson gets back in the front seat and starts the car again. Before he starts driving again, he tosses another bottle of... something in the backseat next to me. It's... Water? I settle on that and take the bottle. I open it and start drinking...
* * *
I open my eyes and rub my head. I look around. Sh*t. Not again. I sit up and my stomach drops to my toes. What if Jackson did it again? I look at my stomach nervously. I get up and go to the bathroom.
I sit next to the toilet and think, which is hard at the moment. I remember... I went to the store... And apparently Jackson was there, because I'm in his apartment. He must've gotten me drunk somehow. But how would he have gotten me to go? I hate him passionately.
I sigh and throw up in the toilet. A tear slides down my cheek, and I remember having to get a pregnancy test. I don't want to do that again. I start shaking. I start crying silently. I think of Amy. What's she thinking? I was supposed to be home last night, and it's the next day...
* * *
I open my eyes. I brush my pink bangs out of my eyes. I sit up and get out of bed. I go into the kitchen and look in the fridge. There's no new food. I close the fridge. I thought Kim was going to get food. I go to her door and almost knock. I stop myself and go back to my room. I undress and see all the cuts on my arms. I sigh and get in the shower. I wash my pink hair and close my eyes.
I get out after a minute and dry off. I blow dry my hair and put on a pale pink sweater and black jeans. I slip on some sandals and get a sticky-note. Apparently this is how Kim likes to tell me she's leaving.
Kim,
I'm going to get some breakfast. Text me if you want to come and I'm not home yet.
Amy
I put the sticky-note on her door and get my keys from the coat rack. I open the door and lock it.
I go down to my car and drive to Starbucks. On the way, I pass a bar. Chills go down my spine as I remember that day...
* * *
After a while of laying on the toilet, I hear Jackson get up. Sh*t! I should have left while I had a chance, instead of mourning over on the toilet seat. I try to hide in the shower. Suddenly, I remember something. I look down and see that at least I'm wearing a bra and underwear. It's small, but it's something.
Jackson stumbles into the bathroom and I hear the shower curtain swish open. Jackson smirks. "Thought you could hide?"
I slowly sit down in the tub. I look up into his threatening face. He's still smirking.
I curl up in the tub. Jackson yanks me up. One of my bra straps falls down. I quickly pull it back into place before he can touch it.
He tries to pull me out of the shower. "You're still a little drunk," He says. "Let me help you out."
"No."
Jackson doesn't stop trying. I yank out of his grip and get out myself.
I stumble out of the shower and my head pounds. I lean against the wall and wince. Jackson comes from behind me and wraps his arms around me. I want to stop him, but the pain from my hangover is blinding.
He guides me to the bed. He wraps me in the blankets. I open my eyes, still clutching my head. "Do not," I say slowly. "Get in with me. I am trusting you with this. Which will probably never happen again." I wince and push harder on my head. I look up at Jackson. For the first time, I see a soft expression in his eyes. He nods. I close my eyes and roll over.
* * *
I pull into the parking lot and get my coffee. I lock my car and go inside the building. "I wonder if Kim's awake," I wonder aloud.
I go upstairs and unlock the apartment door. I go inside and see that the room looks exactly the same from when I left. I frown and nervously go to Kim's door. I knock.
"Kim?" I call. "Are you in there?" After a moment without an answer, I open the door slowly. Her bed is perfectly made. I start breathing harder than usual. I go into the bathroom and knock again.
"Kim?"
I open the door again. No one is there. I check my room. I check under the couch, but everything is clean and orderly. I start shaking.
"She's not here."