Loving His Forever
By: LeAnn Ashers
This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the permission of the Publisher. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.
Edited by:
Julia Goda
Cover Art by:
Sara Eirew
Stock image:
Dollar Photo Club
Formatting:
CP Smith Affordable Formatting
Dedication: To everyone who has suffered abuse. Know you are more than what happened to you. Know what has happened to you doesn’t define you or have to dictate your life. You are not alone.
You’re a fighter. Keep on fighting. <3
Braelyn
“Come on, Braelyn! This is our senior year and we just finished finals. Let’s go have fun.” Sydney tugs on my hand while puckering her bottom lip, pouting.
Jerking my hand from hers, I lie down onto the bed with a thump. “Sydney, you know parties aren’t my thing,” I whine. I feel her sitting down on the bed beside me.
“I know that, Braelyn. They aren’t really my thing either, but I really want to go to this one. We’re leaving this place forever and we never even had the college experience,” she tells me sadly.
“Fine, but I’m not staying long.” I give in and sit up on the bed. I look over at my closet warily. What can I wear? I’m more of a jeans and a pretty top kind of gal.
“Thank you!” Sydney squeals before laying a big smooch on my cheek. Blushing, I wipe off her lip gloss.
I don’t like being around drunk people. Drinking changes people and sometimes those changes can be deadly. How is it deadly? Let’s take my father, for instance. He was an abusive drunk who liked to hit his wife and kids. That was my life until I left for college. College set me free, and I will never step foot back in that town if I can help it.
Putting my hands on either side of me on the bed, I push myself up to my feet and shuffle over to my closet. I feel incredibly nervous about tonight. I’ve stayed away from people drinking for all four years of college; now all that work is going down the drain, since I will be thrown right into the middle of it.
“I got you this!” Sydney yells from behind me. Turning around, I look at her and see she’s holding up a black mini dress.
I narrow my eyes. “A little cocky much?”
She rolls her eyes and hands me the dress. She grabs her own little dress and walks over to her side of the room. Sydney’s side of the room is books. That’s basically it. Books litter the floor, shelving, and window seat. I read too, but mostly on my Kindle.
Pulling the shirt over my head, I get a glance at the huge scar on my shoulder, the product of me falling down onto the corner of the coffee table when my father chased me. I shake my head to clear the memory from my mind.
Slipping the dress on, I instantly notice how tight it is. It hugs my curves to the point where it’s unflattering. I cringe and start to pull it back off when Sydney looks over and catches me.
“Don’t you dare!” she squeals.
Sighing, I drop my arms and sit down on the ground. I grab my makeup bag beside the mirror and look at myself. My eyes are large and brown, there are freckles on my nose and cheekbones, my lips are full and plump. One thing I love about myself is my long eyelashes and big, round eyes.
I take my beauty blender and put on foundation that will cover my freckles. I really hate my freckles; most people with freckles hate them. Once you get in the sun, they multiply. I line my eyes with eyeliner and mascara, then take my red lipstick and dab some on my lips to give them a small tint. Grabbing the wand, I style my hair into big barrel waves. I call it a quits after that.
“Woah, baby,” Sydney catcalls. Blushing, I grab some heels and slip them on my feet. Luckily, one thing I’ve got going for me is I can actually walk in heels. I was born with two correct feet, unlike Sydney. It never fails; she always tries to wear them, but her feet turn sideways and she looks like a newborn foal.
“Okay, ready to go?” Sydney calls. I turn around and look at her. Sydney is beautiful. We became instant best friends. She’s the one who got me out of my shell. I was ready to live life once I got away from my father. She helped with that. Her life is one I would give anything for. Her mom loves her unconditionally and sends her cookies every week in a package filled with ice packs.
Feeling sad, I look away so I can grab my clutch. I walk over to the front door. Sydney lets out a deep breath and mutters something. She slips her four-inch heels on then places her hands out on either side of her. Then bam! Her feet turn sideways and she crashes to the floor. I put my hand over my mouth as I try to hold in the laughter.
I walk over to her. “Why do you even bother?” I ask. I grab her hand to lift her back to her feet. She grabs the heels and pitches them out the window. Well, that’s one way to get rid of them. She’ll buy more by the end of the week.
She grabs her flats and slips them on while fluffing her hair, then grins at me. “Ready.” Rolling my eyes, I take her hand and pull her out of the door.
We take a taxi to the frat party. I groan when Sydney pushes my unwilling body out of the taxi. I freaking hate parties. They are full of grabby assholes that are looking for a warm hole to stick their dicks in; it sure won’t be mine.
“Stay for at least thirty minutes, Braelyn, okay? If you don’t like it, we will leave.” She touches my shoulder to get my attention and then raises three fingers before muttering, “Scouts honor.”
“You weren’t a girl scout,” I mutter under my breath and pull her toward the party, even though a second ago I was ready to fight tooth and nail to get out of this. I just want to get this done and over with. I’m scared. Letting out a deep breath, I brace myself as we walk through the front door.
The smell of smoke, body odor, and beer hits me in the face as soon as I walk in. I close my eyes and try to relax the best I can. Sydney stands beside me looking around the room for something or someone. I can see her uneasiness. She has a stalker. Well, sort of. This guy follows her everywhere she goes. It seemed like every time she turned around, he was always somewhere close.
“Come on, girl, let’s get a drink.” She tugs on my hand, grinning, and the uneasiness melts away.
I dig my feet into the floor to stop her from pulling me. My head moves from side to side, taking in my surroundings.
Calm down, Braelyn. Your father isn’t here and nobody is going to attack you here right in front of everyone.
It’s hard living in a home where you know your father hates your freaking guts and tells you so every single day. A dad who likes to cause you pain. I remember the first time he hit me. He got mad at my mom and took it out on me. My mom watched; she always watched or would turn her head and walk away.
That was the moment when my childhood changed. I lost both my mother and father. My father started verbally abusing me. Those words hurt worse than him hitting me; I honestly would rather be hit than feel small because I’m being talked down to. He would tell me how fucking worthless I was, how I will be nothing in life, and that he should have gotten rid of me as soon as my mom got pregnant. But the bitch wanted a kid.
Tears rush to my eyes at the memory of it all. Closing my eyes, I let my tears dry. That part of my life is over.
Letting out a deep breath, I smile at the crowd as we walk past them. Sydney is bobbing through the crowd like a pro. She goes to the keg and fills us two cups of beer. I take a sip and cringe. Who can drink this, and why? It tastes like piss. Not that I’ve ever tasted piss.
“Oh my God,” Sydney says under her breath and huddles closer to me.
“What?” I ask her, confused. I look around the room to see what has her freaked, when I see him. The man who follows her everywhere. How does he always know where she is? It’s getting really creepy.
“I’m going to go hide,” she whisper yells and looks around the room frantically for somewhere to hide.
“Go,” I encourage her and push her toward the kitchen. She looks at me with a torn expression. I know she doesn’t want to leave, but I would duck out too. She nods hesitantly, then walks away.
Sitting the drink down beside me, I lean against the counter. Then out of nowhere this guy comes up beside me. He’s around 5’9 and really chubby; his hair is greased to the side; and when he smiles, his teeth are yellow to the point they resemble a banana. I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s just standing there. Awkwardly. I clear my throat and move away slightly.
He moves something on the counter and then looks at me. Smiling nervously, I grab my cup and walk away. What’s with the weirdos tonight? Ugh, I’m beyond ready to go. I look at the carefree men and woman dancing; I would give anything to be like that.
I go to the steps outside and sit down. The cold night air feels amazing after the sweat-coated air inside the frat house. Propping my elbow on my knee, I place my hand under my chin and stare out into the woods.
When I hear a door slam behind me, I raise my head quickly and turn around. My eyes widen as I take in the man from earlier. Standing up, I sway. What the heck? No way am I drunk. The man chuckles and casually walks down the steps toward me.
I try to keep a distance between us by backing up. The world is spinning and the man has two heads. I touch my head, groaning. Then I turn around and run into the woods. Branches slap me in the face as I run. I trip over logs. My knees sting from the rocks cutting them.
I hear a branch break behind me. I try to turn around, but my head feels too heavy. Someone drugged me. Oh God, why is this happening to me? Haven’t I suffered enough? I can feel tears running down my face. I trip over an uprooted root and hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud.
I close my eyes, my body too heavy to move, too heavy to do anything. I lie unmoving as merciless hands grope my body and then… nothing. The world fades away as everything I wanted to save for my one and only is stripped away from me.
Braelyn
My body is trembling as the pee-filled alley soaks my clothes and the cold night air nips at my skin. I shudder as I try to curl my body into itself. The sounds of passing cars going by without a care in the world, not knowing about the homeless person starving and freezing in the alley as they pass, hits me. People laugh and mock me as they walk past, treating me how I feel: worthless.