Unintended

“Don’t sulk,” she said, throwing herself into the bed. “Jesus, I just wanted to have some fun, but you’re obviously in a mood so forget it.”

A mood. I was in a moo

d.

“You need to leave,” I told her.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and even though I knew I’d regret them, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care if she stayed or walked out. Didn’t care what she did to me.

Didn’t care if she killed me.

I just wanted it to end. I was sick of her making me feel worthless. Of knowing that, outside, there were people who were actually going to wake up in the morning, happy it was Christmas. Happy to be with people they loved. But she didn’t love me. Nobody did.

“What did you say?” She sat up slowly, fixing her gaze on me.

I shrugged. “Why are you even here? You never talk to me unless you want something.”

She rolled her eyes. “You sound like a fucking girl. Grow some balls, you pathetic waste of space.”

“If that’s how you feel, why do you stay?” I asked, advancing towards her onto the bed. I didn’t touch her. I just knelt beside her, hoping to get some answers.

“Because I feel sorry for you,” she said with a small laugh. “Nobody else would have you, and let’s face it, we both know I could do better, but you… you wouldn’t cope without me.”

“I cope without you every day.” My tone had lowered, defeat washing over me.

“You should be fucking grateful to have me! Do you know how many men hit on me tonight? And yet, I came home to you!”

“Lucky me.” The sarcasm rolled from my words as I turned away from her, standing up.

I heard her scream out before something sharp hit the back of my neck three times in a row. The pain shot down my back, causing a cold tingle to rush down my spine, and I could feel blood trickling down my neck. I turned around to see her holding up the red stiletto she’d been wearing.

What the hell was with her and shoes all of a sudden?

Before she could strike me in the face, I tore it from her hand and threw it across the room.

The move was done on impulse, but inside, I could feel myself starting to shake. Because now, she was furious, and me? I was hurt. Not just physically, but wounded from the inside, all of it surging through me. The tiredness. What little fight I’d had had gone, discarded like the shoe I’d just tossed in the corner.

Her eyes were wild, and her fingers reached up, her sharp nails clawing down my face.

“You fucking loser,” she spat. “I should have gone home with one of the guys I met tonight.” She got right up in my face as the sting from her scratches started to settle into my skin. “Some of them, they were pathetic. One of them even tried to tell me he could take me somewhere nice with his dole money. And you know what? He would still have been better than you.”

The scorn from her words hit me harder than her heels had, and I slumped down to my knees, every bad word she’d ever said to me raging in my mind.

She was right. I was a loser. Only a loser would let this happen. Let someone run them down over and over. Make them afraid to do anything in case she turned into this. The monster that stood before me.

I was as pathetic as she said. I deserved the punch she’d just landed on my jaw. I deserved it because I was no good.

A waste of time.

Of space.

A waste of air.

“Evie! Wake up!”

Blinking, I slowly opened my eyes. The room was still dark, but Oscar was on top of me, softly hitting me to wake me up.

I know kids wake up early on Christmas morning, but it was five-thirty. And weren’t they supposed to wake their parents up first, not the house guest?