Page 31 of Breaking Emilee

Vanessa thinks you have gotten the message about her man, but I think you need a little reminder, so here it is.

1. You are fat, like horribly fat.

2. You can’t dress to impress anyone because of number one.

3. Your family is seriously fucked up and living in the past. No one will want to put up with all the rules.

4. Even though you try your hardest to cover it up, we can still smell the stench of pig on you every day.

5. You are ugly with your fat double chin, huge nose, eyes that are too big, and hair that looks like a wet mop all the time.

And the last and most important one.

6. Parker chose to spend Friday and Saturday hanging out with Vanessa and Me at my house.

You may be asking yourself why I’m bothering to write this letter, and I’ll tell you. While it has been fun to fuck up your life and make you lower than the flies on horse shit. I’m getting tired of it. We thought you would have broken already and forced your family to leave this town, but you are still here. So here is a fucking present from me. Inside this box, you will find all you need to do the whole town, your family, us, and even Parker a favor. Don’t be scared. You’re halfway there anyways. It’s just a little more pressure. For the love of everything, stop holding out for change and just end it already.

Or else.

Your savior,

Christian.

I’m going to be sick. The bile is rising fast in my throat, and no amount of swallowing is keeping it down. Stumbling off my bed, the letter falls to the floor as I hit my knees and throw up everything in my stomach. How can someone say that to someone else? End it, or else? Or else what? When nothing’s left to come up, I start dry heaving, and the sounds I’m making aren’t quiet, but like normal, no one comes to see if I’m okay. After what feels like hours, my stomach muscles unclench, and I stop dry heaving. I sit back on my legs, grab the shirt I wore to bed last night and throw it over the mess on the floor. Once my heart beats slow down, I clean the floor with the shirt and throw it in the trash can. I can’t stand the smell of throw up, so I get the mop and air freshener to clean the floor. The little box is sitting on my bed like a little beacon. Picking it up, I pull the tape off. Inside is a box cutter with three extra blades. There’s also a diagram of the lower arm. Highlighted on the diagram is the main vessel that runs in the arm, which, if I nick, will make me bleed out if help doesn’t come soon.

For the second time today, my hands start to shake. Throwing the box, it hits the corner behind my closet door, and I lose my shit completely. Tears rush out of my eyes as sobs loudly break through my gritted teeth. I want to destroy everything around me to match what it looks like inside me. So, I do. a. As I grab the radio and throw it to the floor, my ears start ringing. When I chunk the alarm clock at the back of the closet door, my heart is beating so fast I’m afraid I’m going to have a heart attack. All I can hear is the pounding of my heart. So when Levi grabs me around my waist, making me drop the lamp I’m about to throw, I let out a squeal of surprise. Pulling me to his chest he screams in my ear, “Emilee, Emilee. Fuck Emilee.”

Clawing at his arms, I bring blood. I want him to let me go. “Let me go, Levi. Fucking let. Me. Go.” I scream at him, but he never does. He tightens his hold on me while I fight him till all my energy is gone, and I go limp in his arms. He lowers us to the floor, where he sits in front of me, taking my face in his hands.

“What in the hell is going on?” I hear his question but can’t make my brain or mouth work to answer him.

I’m not sure how long we sit like this, but the sun has disappeared by the time I finally notice that he’s still sitting by me. “Shit, I have to get dinner started,” I say, jumping up and causing him to fall back on his elbows due to how close he’s sitting to me.

“Emilee, we need to talk about all of this,” he says, motioning around him. My room looks like a tornado came through it, and I guess one did, one named Emilee.

“It’s nothing, Levi. I just had a moment and acted stupidly. I understand if you think you need to tell them, but I’ll clean it up as soon as dinner’s made,” I say, unsure if he will buy my lie. I have never done anything like this before now. I reach out to help him up, and he takes my hand.

He looks straight into my eyes and says, “I don’t believe you, but I can’t make you tell me what is going on. I’m not going to tell anyone, but Emilee, something is seriously wrong with you. I can see the light in your eyes is really fucking dim sometimes, and it scares me, but you never say anything, so I don’t know what to do to help you.”

A lump forms in my throat as tears pool in my eyes. I pull my younger but smarter brother in for a hug. I guess me and Christian was wrong. I’m not so invisible to everyone. Levi sees me, but I don’t know how to ask for help. “It’s okay, Levi. Everyone has bad days, and that is all it is. Hormones and bad days.” I say, leading him out of my room and away from the mess that I have created. Later that night, I cleaned up the mess and found that I had broken every one of the items in my room. My lamp, stereo, picture frames, and alarm clock are shattered on the floor. Thank God my phone was in its normal hiding spot when I went on a rampage. Sighing, I pick up the box, put it under my bed, and put the disgusting letter with the other things. I can do this for four months, and I’m gone, but to do that, I need to go over the papers I wrote and the presentation to make sure that they are perfect for tomorrow.

I wish Parker was here and thought I was special enough, but according to that note, he got back into town Friday. The kicker is that Christian lives across the street from me, so if he is there, then that means he probably saw me and didn’t come out to talk. I guess I got my answer. I really am nothing special. Looking in the mirror, the only thing that survived, I give myself a dirty look. “How stupid could you have been to think someone wanted you, fucking idiot,” I say to myself. When I turn away from the mirror, my eyes go to my window, where someone is looking through it. I cover my mouth, so the scream doesn’t come out and wake my family up. What the fuck is he doing here. I can see him take the screen out and place it on the ground beside the wall. I should go stop him. He can’t be here. What the fuck. My window opens, and the cold air rushes in, and I shiver even though I’m covered head to toe and burning up.

“Hi, Butterfly,” he says. Parker West is in my room. Why?

CHAPTERNINETEEN

The plan was to hang out for a couple of hours and then head home, but when we got back to Zak’s, my bike wouldn’t start. I wasn’t happy about it, but after spending hours trying to fix it, I realized there was nothing I could do about it. I don’t have the part I need to fix it here, but I have one at home, which Aunt Luna will bring me early tomorrow morning. It’s not ideal but the shops around here didn’t have it in stock. So instead of stressing, I spend the rest of my Saturday night playing games with Zak and just chilling. I keep my phone on, but it’s pretty quiet besides Vanessa texting. I don’t bother to read her messages. I just delete them as quickly as they come in. I’m hoping my girl will message me because I’m too scared to message her first, but she never does.

At least not until a couple of hours later. Walking into the room that feels like mine, I’m still wearing a towel when my phone chimes signaling another message. Figuring it’s Vanessa again, I ignore it until I’m dressed in shorts. Laying down, I get comfortable and pick up my phone, ready to delete the message, but my finger stops mid-air when I see what’s on the screen.

Beautiful: One new picture message.

My girl sent me a photo but why. What’s the photo of? My hands start to shake, and my palms grows slick with sweat, so much that my phone slips out, landing on my chest. Wiping my hands on the sheets, I pick it up and click download. I don’t breathe while I watch the little bar fill up, scared shitless. Once the image downloads, I hit open, and my breath is stolen for another reason.

The air I was holding in whooshes out of me. In front of me is my girl looking sexy as hell. My dick instantly reacts to the image that now fills my phone screen. She is sitting back on her bed with her phone angled above her, showing off her amazing, full tits in a lacy black bra. If that isn’t enough, you can see that she is also wearing a pair of lacy black panties that I want to rip off her. The one thing about the picture I do not like is that I can see her sucking in her soft tummy. I want to spank her ass for that. Doesn’t she know that all of her is beautiful and turns me on so much? The longer I stare at the picture, the harder my dick gets. I palm myself through my shorts and moan into the silent room. I know there is no way for me to sleep until I take care of this problem. I start playing music on my phone and quickly switch back to the photo of my sexy girl.

Shifting to release my throbbing dick, I turn on my side. Bending my right leg up and planting my foot on the bed, I keep my phone in my left hand and grab my dick with my right one. Starting at the base, I stroke up, squeezing just hard enough that I know I won’t last long. As I drink my fill of my girls’ luscious tits, soft belly, and beautiful pussy, all hidden like a present wrapped for me to open, I continue to stroke myself. I groan out and pick up speed and pressure.

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