Picking Up The Pieces

Her father treats her differently but isnāt confident to leave her home. I look into her eyes and reassure her that it doesnāt matter what others think, I was under scrutiny because my foster father who is also my best friend is gay. There comes a point in your life where you no longer give a shit what others think and be yourself. It was at that moment where she kisses me passionately, tongues and all, Harriette then slips her hand down my trousers when all of a sudden I get dragged across the grass, picked up then punched in the face by her father. Shit, this isnāt good, the whiskey is taking most of the pain until he grabs a tennis racket and smacks me straight in the face. I struggle to get up again after that and Iām feeling the pain now more than ever, he delivers one final blow. A punt straight in the stomach, what a way to kick a man when heās down, I drop down to my left side and see his wife and Claudia run to take him off me, I see Harriette shout at her father to stop then I close my eyes and fade into the darkness.
I wake up several hours later with Harriette by my side still baked out our faces, I am lead down against her and she hands me a weed brownie while I watch Claudia argue with her father while people leave and stack up the chairs in the hall area.
Harrietteās father leaves while staring at me angrily and Claudia comes over, slaps me on the same injured cheek saying āwe will talk later, get in the carā. I get up slowly, I say my goodbyes and walk behind her into her car. We drive for miles aimlessly arguing how I cost her one of her biggest clients and ruined her reputation she spent years cherishing and went against her wishes, I joke about how I really was talk of the party, but it made things worse. I get called a man-child, a selfish bastard, a prick, a cunt and a fucking animal. I remember this well because while she was too busy looking at me towards to back seat where I was barely awake, she didnāt see the truck in front of her, causing us to crash head-first, my back hit the back of the seats, however she was in a worse state. I fear for life because the safety mechanism of the car wheel didnāt activate and she isnāt moving, blood flowing continuously like a tap while her forehead rests against the wheel. The horn sound is the last thing I hear before going back into the dark. Ā
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