Heavenly Inspiration

I've been writing for years but I never have the motivation to finish anything. Maybe you guys can help me? Feel free to request stories you want to see, and I'll do my best to write them :)


I don’t know how it started, or why it happened to me.  At what point does a person decide that they are going to abuse their child?  None of my friends were abused, so why was I?

I was young when it began.  It didn’t start out as physical abuse, he simply wouldn’t take me out of my crib when I cried, wouldn’t feed me, wouldn’t change my diaper.  But as I grew older, it got worse.

When I was three, my mother died.  Records say that she had killed herself.  I wouldn’t doubt that, but I also wouldn’t be surprised to find that someone else had been involved.

On my fifth birthday, I was coloring in my room when he came in.  I asked him what he thought of my picture.  He snatched the paper out of my hand and ripped it in half.  He grabbed my wrist and squeezed tightly until I gasped and let go of the crayon in my hand.  He pushed me to the ground and left my room silently.

The first time he hit me, I was seven years old.  I was sitting in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal and watching Spongebob after school.  He came in and started making himself a sandwich.  I stood up to put my bowl in the sink and accidentally ran into him. The plate fell out of his hands and onto the floor.  He stood still for a few seconds, staring at his plate clattering on the floor.  I slowly walked around him and put my bowl and spoon into the sink.  I kept my eyes on him the whole time.  I started walking toward the door and turned around.  I was a few steps from the door when he grabbed my arm and pulled me sharply back toward him.  He twisted my arm up behind my back and pulled, not quite hard enough to dislocate my shoulder, but hard enough to make me cry out in pain.  He let go and smacked the back of my head as I scampered out of the room, crying.

It grew progressively worse over the years.  It was as if he felt that once he had done something, it was okay to do it again, and go beyond it.  I learned that it was best to spend as much time as possible shut up in my room, alone. He never abused me sexually; it was all mental and physical.  However, who’s to say that he wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gotten away from him when I did?

I was fourteen at the time.  He had gotten angry at me for playing music too loudly, and I knew that he was going to start hurting me, so I picked up a pair of scissors that were lying on my desk, waited for him to come at me, and stabbed him.  My first stab got him in his stomach, my second in his thigh, my third and final one in his chest.  He fell to the ground, so I ran out of my room, locking the door behind me.  I called 9-1-1 and waited for the cops to show up.

Within ten minutes there was an ambulance and two police cars outside and a flurry of people at my house.  A young policeman took me out and sat me on the passenger seat of his cruiser.  He crouched outside the car and talked to me while the ambulance took the man to the hospital and out of my life.

Officer Michael took me to the police station to talk to me about what happened.  I matter-of-factly told him my life story.  When I was done, he left and came back a few minutes later with another man.  I immediately knew that this man was a psychiatrist.  He asked me to repeat what I had told Officer Michael.  I did and both men left the room after.  A woman officer came in and asked me to show her where I had been hurt.  I showed her the bruises on my arms, stomach, back, and legs.  She took photos of the wounds and told me that I had acted in self-defense and would not be punished for my actions.  Afterwards, I was taken to Social Services and I became a typical foster child, going from home to home, trying not to let myself get close to anyone.  My father had ruined my life, and I was never going to be able to forget what he did to me. It was going to be with me for the rest of my existence…

“Roxanne, may I please see you at my desk?”

I stopped at the door of the classroom and rolled my eyes.  I turned to face the room.  Mr. Davis was sitting at his desk, shuffling papers around.  About half of the class was still in the room, looking between Mr. Davis and me.  I stayed standing at the door, raising my eyebrow at my young English teacher.

He looked up at me and sighed.

“The rest of you can go,” Mr. Davis said.  No one moved.  “It’s lunchtime.  Leave!” he said, more sharply.  The class scrambled to leave the room quickly, rushing around me like a river flowing past a rock.

I stood silently as the door shut behind me.  Mr. Davis was staring at me, an intrigued look in his eyes.

“Roxanne, can you come here, please?”

I clenched my teeth and took slow, deliberate steps towards his desk.  When I was a few feet away, I stopped.  He sighed again and leaned back in his chair.

“What am I going to do with you?”  He paused, waiting for a reply that didn’t come.  “You’re a smart girl, and you know it!  You’ve already read all of the novels we will be covering this year, you have never gotten below a 93 on a test, and you are a fantastic writer!”  He paused again and looked at me.  I raised my eyebrow to indicate that I wasn’t going to say anything and he should continue.  “But what I can’t figure out is why you never do your homework or participate in class.  Your attitude is deplorable, and I can’t figure out what to do!”  He breathed heavily in the silence that followed.

“Is that all?” I asked sarcastically.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” He asked.  I paused again.

“No.  No I don’t.”  I turned to leave the room, but stopped when he put a hand on my shoulder.

“Look I’m not angry at you—”

“I never said you were.”

“Let me finish, please!  I’m not angry; I just want to know how we can make the rest of this year better.  You aren’t participating, and I’m feeling like a failure of an educator.”  Mr. Davis’ voice had grown much calmer and kinder.  I still hadn’t turned to face him.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” I said quietly.  I shrugged his hand off and took a few more steps toward the door, when I turned back to him.

“Have you heard my story?”

“No,” he said, looking confused.

“Ask around the Teacher’s Lounge.  Someone will know it.”

With that, I left the room.  Mr. Davis slowly sat back down as the door closed behind me.

I ran to the bathroom and faced my reflection.  My dark brown hair fell in waves to my shoulder blades, my bangs hitting just below my eyebrows and framing my face.  I pulled out my mascara and added another coat to my already spider’s-leg-like eyelashes.  I put the mascara back into my bag and looked sadly into my own violet eyes.

This happened every time I had a new teacher.  Nothing ever changed.  They always acted so concerned about me.  I was already living with strangers, I was already a charity case, I didn’t need my teachers to tell me how to live my life.  I sniffed back the last few tears that were burning my eyes, itching to get out. I looked into the mirror and took a deep breath before turning and leaving the bathroom, hoping to continue my life without being bothered ever again…

Rae and Danny

Danny and I were curled up on his couch. He was watching TV and I was reading, my head in his lap, his hand absentmindedly playing with my hair. I reached out for my water bottle that was sitting on the coffee table, and Danny grabbed it and handed it to me.

“Thanks” I said, before taking a sip. I then put the bottle on the ground where I could reach it. A few seconds later, I realized the TV was no longer making noise. I looked over, and the screen was black. I looked up at Danny. “Did the show end?”

“Not technically, but I got bored of it. How’s your book?”

“It’s alright. I have to read it for class Friday, so I have a whole week to finish it, and I’m almost done.”

“Good for you!” Danny said, and held out his hand for a high five. I laughed and slapped his hand. He caught my hand in his and took my book from me with the other. He put it down on the coffee table, and lifted me up so that I was facing him. “You’ve done a lot today. Why don’t you take a break?”

“A break isn’t going to get me good grades, Danny.”

“Oh come on, Rae, you know you deserve a break.” His blue eyes bore into my brown ones, and I gave him a mischievous smile.

“I do, don’t I?” I climbed on top of him so that I was straddling his legs and kissed him, feeling his mouth open up underneath mine. He grabbed my hips and pulled my body towards him, grinding against me. Our breathing was growing heavy, and I could feel my heartbeat speeding up. We broke apart and I looked at him lustfully.

“So…” Danny started, panting, “bedroom?” I laughed.

“Bedroom,” I agreed, and stood up, pulling him along behind me. We went down the hall and rushed into his room.  He closed the door behind us and pushed me down onto his bed before climbing on top of me. He unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it off me and revealing my body. He smiled and kissed me, starting at my mouth, trailing down my neck, pausing at my breasts. Danny reached behind me and unhooked my red and black lace bra and took it off. He kissed each breast before moving down my stomach. When he reached my shorts, he undid the button and zipper, and pulled them down, leaving me just in my black underwear. He took off his shirt before softly rubbing me through the thin fabric. Danny smiled at me.

“I guess someone is a little turned on, huh?” Danny asked and chuckled when I gasped at his touch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feigning disinterest.

“Don’t you?”

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the hallway. I quickly grabbed my bra and put it back on as Danny groaned.

“They weren’t supposed to be back until 8,” Danny said, handing me my shorts. I finished getting dressed just as the bedroom door swung open to reveal three guys. Danny’s roommates and I were friends, but we weren’t exactly at the level where they could walk in on us having sex and everyone be cool with it. As soon as they saw Danny and me sitting on his bed, they freaked out. One of them smiled broadly and tried to run in to high five Danny, but was held back by another who was trying to quickly usher everyone out and close the door. The third yelled a quick “get ‘er done” before the door shut. Danny sighed and fell back onto the bed, his arms covering his face. I got up, locked the door, and walked back to the bed, shedding my clothes as I went so that, by the time I was standing next to the bed, I was just in my underwear and bra.

“You aren’t done, are you?” I asked in the most seductive voice I could muster. He moved his arms to see me standing above him, my hands on my hips, eyebrow raised. He fumbled for words before I got on top of him and started kissing him, first his mouth, then his jaw, down his neck, past his chest and abs, all the way to the top of his jeans. I looked up and smiled my mischievous smile again before undoing the button and zipper with my teeth.

“Well that’s…new,” he said, breathing deeply.

“Yeah I’ve been practicing on all the guys I have wild, animalistic sex with,” I joked, starting to pull the pants off his body.

“Oh you do, do you? That’s not very nice of you. You haven’t been a very good girl, have you?” He sat up as he said this, grabbing me and flipping us over so that he was on top of me again. “What can I do to convince you to only have wild, animalistic sex with me?”

“I think you’re already doing it,” I said, and he laughed before kissing me.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to do this a lot. I wouldn’t want you realizing you deserve more and running off with some other guy!”

“Don’t let me stop you,” I whispered, and I held his head against mine.

Andy Sixx - The Twin

Andy and I were sitting in his car, driving…somewhere. After I had thrown on yoga pants, a white tank top, and converse, grabbing an apple from my kitchen counter, my phone, wallet, sunglasses, and a hoodie, we went to his car. We stopped by his hotel so that he could change clothes, and we were soon on the road.

“Seriously, Andy, where are we going?” He smiled and rolled down the windows. He put one of his hands on my leg.

“You’ll see!” I rolled my eyes and turned on the radio. I sang under my breath, my white hair blowing in the wind. Andy put his hand on my thigh and smiled at me before looking back to the road.

Sitting in the car with him, relaxed, calm, and happy, reminded me of our first date. It was nothing like this. He had picked me up and I sat in his car, back straight, hands in my lap, staring straight ahead at the road. We made awkward small talk the entire way to the restaurant. I occasionally looked at him out of the corners of my eyes. He didn’t seem real. I had listened to his music for years and to be sitting in the car with him, on the way to dinner, seemed completely surreal.

“We’re here,” Andy said, pulling me out of my reverie. I looked outside to find us parked in front of the local animal shelter. I used to go to the animal shelter with my mom. We weren’t looking to get a pet, but she knew I loved animals, and I always had the hope that I’d be able to convince her to get one.

Andy got out of the car and came around to open my door. I got out and he grabbed my hand as we walked to the door. As we entered the building, the familiar sounds of animals hit me. I smiled involuntarily and Andy squeezed my hand. We approached the front desk and the woman looked up from her computer and beamed at us.

“May I help you?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if we could take a look at some dogs.”

“Oh, absolutely!” She came out from behind the desk. “It’s right through this door here. Let one of the workers in the blue shirts know if you need anything.”

“Okay, thank you so much,” Andy said, and led me into the room.

There were rows of cages, all with dogs in them. We walked down the first row, looking at the dogs as we passed. Some came up to the doors as we passed, others were sleeping, and still others seemed too focused on their toys to notice us passing. When we reached the end of the row, I stopped and grabbed his arm.

“Why are we here?” I asked, my dark brown eyes boring into his light blue ones. As happy as I was to be surrounded by animals, I didn’t quite know why he had brought me here. He looked worried, his brows furrowing.

“I thought you’d be excited. I know how much you love animals and I just thought…well your birthday is coming up and I’m going on tour soon and I know you can’t always come with us so I just thought you might want something to keep you company while I’m gone. We can go if you want, I’m so sorry—” All while he was giving this speech, my smile grew, and I finally put my finger over his mouth so he would stop talking.

“You mean to tell me that you want to get me a dog for my birthday?”

“Only if you want one!”

I laughed before reaching for his hand and continuing down the next row of cages. There were all different kinds of dogs, all different ages. I didn’t even know what kind of dog I wanted, but I was hoping that I’d know when I saw it. We walked through the aisles, occasionally pausing to take a longer look at a dog.

“So,” I said as we meandered, “what made you come to this conclusion?”

“Conclusion?” Andy asked, bending down to stick his hand in front of the nose of a rather jumpy Black Labrador.

“Why do you want to get me such a big present?”

“Who says it’s gonna be big? It could be…” he moved to the next cage, which contained a Beagle, “medium. Or it could be…” he stood in front of a cage with a Yorkshire Terrier, “small. Hell, it could even be gigantic!” he pointed to a Great Dane, curled up on the floor of its cage. “I don’t know if you want to deal with something that big, or even how big a dog you’re even allowed to have at your apartment, but whatever you choose, I know you’ll take amazing care of it, because that’s the kind of person you are, Elle.”

“Damn…That speech was part Captain Obvious, part inspirational, and part amazingly adorable!”

“I do what I can,” Andy replied, laughing. I threw my head back and laughed loudly.

“But I didn’t mean big as in the size of the dog, I meant big as in it’s a big investment, both financially and emotionally.”

“I want you to be happy. I know it’s rough when I go on tour and you can’t come with us. So I want you to have someone to keep you company while I’m gone.”

I smiled at him and grabbed his hand as we continued to walk past cages. Then I saw something that caught my eye.

A small black ball of fur was curled up on the floor by the front of the cage. I squatted and put my fingers through the fencing and began to stroke the dog. It picked up its head and looked at me with bright blue eyes. I was shocked. I looked at Andy. His dark hair and light eyes had always captivated me, and I was staring at his canine twin. The dog’s tail started wagging and opened its mouth in a doggy smile.

“Male, four months old, husky mix. And he was brought in…two weeks ago,” Andy said, reading the card on the cage door.

“He’s beautiful,” I whispered. The dog put one of his paws against the fence where my hand was resting. I laughed and he gave a short bark of happiness. A man wearing a blue “volunteer” shirt came up to us and asked Andy if we needed anything.

“Yeah, would it be possible to spend some time with this dog right here?”

“Absolutely,” the man said, smiling, “I’m glad you two took an interest in this little guy. He’s a favorite among the workers and we’ve all been waiting to see who he gets to go home with.”

The man led us to a back room where he had us wash our hands before he brought the black dog in. The puppy immediately scampered towards where Andy and I were crouching and he sniffed us all over before licking our arms, faces, and whatever else he could get his tongue on. I sat down and he crawled all over my lap like I was his personal obstacle course. We played with him for about ten minutes before the man came back in to ask how we were doing. Andy and I looked at each other, smiling, before speaking simultaneously.

“We’ll take him!”

The Proposal

His hand felt natural in mine. I mean, it should. After knowing him for four years and dating for three, we were so in sync that it sometimes confused me when we weren’t together. We had met freshman year of college and become really close. He was one of those friends who you could tell anything to and know he wouldn’t judge you for it. He had asked me out the summer before sophomore year, and the next few years were so much fun. Obviously, we had our fair share of spats; the usual not spending enough time together, flirting with other people, that sort of thing. But throughout it all, we had stayed together. But, as it was nearing the end of first semester of senior year, I started to worry.

What was going to happen to us after college? I didn’t even know for sure what I wanted to do. The past few weeks he had grown distant. We spent time together and talked, but there was something odd. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew he was going to break up with me.

I had gotten ready for our date anxiously. I put on a simple black dress that had long sleeves and a tight pencil skirt that hit an inch above my knee and paired it with a pair of cobalt blue heels. I did my makeup and hair, hoping that it wouldn’t look like I was trying too hard. The knock came at my door and I grabbed my black trench coat and purse and went out my door to meet him.

As we walked down the road to his car, he took my hand. I loved holding his hand. It felt warm and strong and it made me feel safe.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said, not meeting my eyes. I cringed and looked at the ground.

“Thanks. You do, too.” I cast a furtive look at him. He really did look nice. He was wearing black pants, a black dress shirt, a bright blue bow tie, and a black suit jacket. I loved it when he wore bow ties, especially brightly colored ones. The combination of blue and black made his blue eyes pop. I looked back at the ground.

We reached his car and he opened my door, helping me in before closing the door behind me. He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat. He turned the car on and pulled onto the street. We rode in silence for a few minutes before I turned the radio on and sang along. I never looked at him directly, but I kept stealing glances from the passenger seat. A smile played on his lips as I belted out song after song. After twenty minutes, I was starting to wonder.

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

“It’s, uh, it’s a surprise,” he said, not meeting my gaze.

My face fell. I rolled my eyes and turned to look out the window. We had gone into town and were nearing one of my favorite restaurants. He pulled into a space and turned the car off. He got out and walked around to get my door. He offered me his hand. I took it and stepped out of his car. He was always such a gentleman. He offered me his arm and I slipped my hand through his arm. We walked into the restaurant together.

After being seated, a waiter came to take our drink orders. We sat in silence, sipping ice water. His blue eyes were boring into mine. For the first time all night, a smile graced his face. His strong jaw, hidden beneath black stubble, tensed with the smile. I smiled back; I couldn’t help it. He had one of those infectious smiles.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” I said, slightly taken aback.

“You are amazing. You’re sweet, funny, kind, talented, gorgeous, and I love being with you. I don’t know what we’re going to be doing after we graduate, but I do know one thing I want in my life.”

“That’s not a question. You’re forcing me to ask when you say that,” I said, sassily. He rolled his eyes.

“It’s you. I want you to be in my life. Just…not as my girlfriend.”

My eyes widened and I gasped. A cloud of fog seemed to have fallen over my brain. I couldn’t see straight, I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t speak. I could barely hear what he said next.

“I want you to be my wife.”

The cloud lifted. I looked at him in shock. He smiled before getting out of his chair and going down on one knee. He pulled a small box out of his pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

Rae and Danny

“What happened?”

I was upset and the way I deal with it is taking out my pocket knife and cutting myself.

“Oh, I had my cat on my lap and he scratched my legs.”

I’ve gotten really good at hiding things. For most people, that wouldn’t be a good thing. But for me, I keep myself from burdening people with my problems. But everyone needs that one person they can talk to who will always make them feel better.

For me? That person is Danny.

He can always tell when I’m upset. When we’re with a group of people and I’m feeling down, he gives me a look full of genuine worry and care. He’ll then put his arm around me or take my hand or even just put his hand on my back so that I know he’s there for me.

“Are you feeling okay?” Danny asked. We were in Tyler’s dorm room, watching him play video games with some other people from our hall. I was sitting on the floor, my zebra print blanket wrapped around me for both warmth and comfort. I shrugged in response to his question. He moved so that he was sitting behind me, and started rubbing my back. It was at that point that he realized I was shaking, not vigorously enough for people to see, but enough that he could feel it when he put his hands on my back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he whispered into my ear. I shrugged again; my go-to response for those times that I’m upset but don’t want to make a scene. He patted my back and pulled me up before leading me out of the room and down the hall, back to my dorm room.

I immediately fell onto my bed, face down. I heard Danny close and lock the door behind us. Tears were burning my eyes, and as soon as I felt Danny’s hand on my back, I lost it. I started sobbing.

“What’s wrong?” I didn’t respond to Danny’s question. He let me cry for a minute longer before continuing. “Did you have a bad day? Did something happen? Or are you just feeling down?”

“Nothing happened. Nothing ever does. I wish something bad happened. Then at least I’d have an excuse to feel like this. But instead, I just have to feel like shit for no good reason.”

“I’m sorry. Why didn’t you talk to me earlier?”

“You were playing video games. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Raven, nothing is ever going to be as important as you. I don’t care what I’m doing. Whenever you’re feeling down, text me or come get me. Talk to me. I want to help you.”

“I just don’t want to be a burden to you…”

“You won’t be! Look, I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to refuse to help someone because of a stupid video game.”

“Yeah, well, guess what kind of girl I am?” I said, and pulled a pair of scissors out from under my pillow. Danny gasped; I had relapsed earlier, and now he knew it.

“Rae…” he breathed, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He took the scissors from my hand and put them down on my desk. I felt Danny climb into my bed and wrap his arms around me. I started shaking. I was trying not to cry, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Tears streamed down my face. The more I cried, the tighter Danny held me to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” I started, gasping for air.

“Don’t apologize!”

“No, I need to. I know I told you I was gonna stop, and I really did try, but tonight I just…couldn’t stop myself. And I know you said that I could always talk to you, but you were with the guys and I didn’t want you to worry. I thought I would be able to handle myself without cutting, but…it didn’t turn out like I planned. I’m sorry I hurt myself, I’m sorry you didn’t know how crazy I was before we started dating—”

“You aren’t crazy!”

“Fine. Emotionally unstable, then. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stop hurting myself.”

I rolled over so that I was facing him and buried my face into Danny’s chest.

“Can I ask you something?” Danny pulled my face away from his chest and made me look up at him. I nodded tearfully. “Are you happy with me?”

I pulled away from Danny, shocked. In that moment, the worst possible scenarios started running through my head: he was going to tell me I was being stupid, he was going to tell me I had to stop, or, worse yet, he was going to break up with me.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Then listen to me. You need to know that you can talk to me whenever. I want to help you.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you always need to drop everything for me. You have a life.”

“Yeah, and you’re a part of it.”

“I’m not the only part,” I said, looking away from him. I started absentmindedly playing with his shirt sleeve and stroking his arm.

“You’re a pretty big part. You’re amazing: you’re funny, and sweet, and generous, and you take care of people, and you’re gorgeous. I don’t ever want to hear you say otherwise. I also don’t want to lose you. What’s going to happen if something happens to you? If you cut too deep and…” he trailed off.

“Bleed out?” I finished, still not meeting his eyes. I heard the air catch in his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice breaking. He inhaled shakily. “I just…as your boyfriend, I feel like it’s my job to take care of you and when you cut yourself, I feel like I’m failing.”

I smiled and looked at him.

“You have no idea how much I love hearing you say that.” Danny looked confused, but glad that I was no longer sad.

“Say what?”

“That you’re my boyfriend. I love it when you call me yours. I also love being able to call you mine.”

“Really?” Danny’s blue eyes lit up and I could tell he was genuinely pleased at what I had said.

“Okay,” I said, sitting up on my bed and leaning against the wall. He followed suit, a smile still playing on his mouth. “Honesty time with Rae: I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year.”

“Really?” he said again. His voice cracked with excitement.

“Yeah! I thought you were super cute,” I said in a joking tone, but meaning every word. There was a pause while we just smiled at each other.

“Well I thought that you were out of my league,” Danny said, looking deep into my chocolate brown eyes.

“You did?” I asked, taken aback. Danny rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. You were really funny and cool and, okay, yeah, hot, and, to be honest, I thought you had a thing for someone else. And then we hung out more and I thought you might be flirting so…I went for it. And we became make out buddies and…now here we are.” I smiled broadly before wrapping my arms around his neck to kiss him.

Andy Sixx - Get Dressed

“Elle? Gabrielle?! Oh, god, please wake up!” I opened my eyes to find my boyfriend, Andy, staring down at me, his blue eyes full of concern. I tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in my head made me gasp and lie back down. I clutched my head, wincing at the pain movement had brought on. My eyes focused on my arms, held in front of my head. I noticed red on my arms.

“Shit…” I said, and I slowly let go of my head to look more closely at my arms. There were fresh cuts on both of my arms, joining the multitudes of scars in different stages of healing. Trails of dried blood flowed down my forearms to the tips of my fingers. I sat up, slowly, being careful not to make sudden movements that might make my head hurt again. I moved the covers off of my body so that I could see my legs. I had fallen asleep in my bra and underwear, so I could clearly see that there were more cuts and dried blood on my thighs and hips. I sat, staring at my legs.

“Ellie?” Andy’s voice made me look up. I had forgotten he was there. His hair was undone, he hadn’t put any make up on, and I could tell that he had picked up the first thing he had found on the floor of his room, black skinny jeans and a gray sweatshirt. I couldn’t meet his gaze, so I looked at my nightstand where my phone lay, a light flashing to let me know I had a notification.

Or eighteen, as it turned out. I had five missed calls and thirteen texts, all from Andy. The first text was from ten thirty in the morning and was a simple good morning text. Those grew progressively worse to the last one, from fifteen minutes ago, which read “holy hell what the fuck happened? Are you okay?? I’m coming over now!” I put my phone down and folded my hands in my lap, still not looking at Andy. I shivered, partly because I was cold, and partly because I didn’t know what to make of the situation.

I heard Andy sigh and I looked up. He took my hand and helped me stand up slowly. He led me to my bathroom where he made me sit down on the side of the bathtub. He turned the water on and we waited in silence for the water to heat up. He got out a first aid kit and a washcloth. When the water had grown warm, Andy put the washcloth under the stream. He gently started wiping at the cuts on my thighs and hips, removing the dried blood, before gingerly taking my right hand and carefully dabbing at the cuts. When he had gotten all of the blood off of my skin, he rinsed the washcloth so that it was clean. He squeezed out as much water as he could before picking up a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He unscrewed the cap and poured some of the alcohol onto the cloth. He put one hand firmly on my left leg before applying the damp fabric to my leg. I gasped and jumped, the alcohol stinging my cuts. He held me in place with one hand and cleaned my legs and hips with the other. He then took my hand in his. I tried to pull away, but he held me tightly. I whimpered, and I saw a look of pain cross his face before he held the alcohol-soaked cloth to my wrist.

I couldn’t hold it in. I yelped in pain, trying to jerk my hand out of his. Tears started streaming down my face. Andy let go of my hand and quickly grabbed the other one, repeating the process. I was bawling at this point, a mixture of pain and leftover emotions from the night before flooding my mind. Andy tossed the washcloth into the bathtub before taking a tube of Neosporin and some cotton balls out of the first aid box. He slowly started applying the ointment to my cuts while I cried. Once he had finished that, he covered the areas with gauze and secured it using medical tape. I was still crying, a silent sobbing that shook my entire frame.

Andy took off his sweatshirt and put it on me, then picked me up and carried me back to my bed. He put me down before crawling in next to me. I curled up next to him, my head on his chest, my arm around his waist. He held me close.

“Sweetie, what happened?” Andy asked, his voice low and soothing.

“I didn’t know what to do. You were at rehearsal so I couldn’t talk to you. I couldn’t handle it. I’m so, so sorry. I know I promised I wouldn’t do this anymore but I was so upset and I…” my words became unintelligible as my breathing quickened.

“Shh…Why were you upset?”

“The audition fell through. I didn’t get the part. And on top of that, my mom called and told me that they got a dog and he’s sooo cute and they actually got him a few months ago but she just forgot to call.”

“I’m sorry, babe, that really sucks. I know how badly you wanted that part. And that was rude on your mom’s part. She knows how much you love animals. But I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. And if they didn’t cast you, they just don’t know what they’re missing, because you’re an amazing actress and singer! Just keep practicing. You’ll get there eventually.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I stopped crying and was just resting against Andy’s body.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked me. I wiped my eyes and looked up at him. I nodded and smiled.

“Thanks for everything. You take such good care of me. How did you know something was wrong?”

“Because you’re usually up by eleven. You weren’t responding to my texts or calls. Once it hit two, I knew something was up.” I looked at the clock sitting on my nightstand. It was now three thirty in the afternoon. I winced at my wasted day. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Still a little sore, and I still have a little headache, but that will go away soon enough. I should probably get up, eat something, and do something to distract myself.”

“I have an idea, but it’s a surprise.” I sighed.

“Andy, you know how much I hate surprises…”

“Yeah, but this one’s gonna be good. I think you’ll like this surprise.” Andy grinned. How was I supposed to refuse him when he seemed so excited?

“Okay, you win,” I groaned. He beamed.

“Get dressed.”