I take a deep breath and a few flashbacks flood my mind before I can even continue speaking.

His dirty lips violently pressed against mine, his hands wrapped around my body. This brings me the worst memories.

The memories from that morning.

When my rapist-

"And what? Please, finish," he says impatiently. I can tell he is mad at James and the moment I leave, he will beat his ass. I would gladly want that but I don't want Derek to get hurt again, he is still injured.

I can't... I won't tell him the rest because I'm extremely concerned about how Derek will react and I can't stand seeing him in pain again.

What would have happened if I froze? If I didn't fight back? Is this all I deserve? I keep getting harassed and it's more than I can handle. The thoughts of killing myself are constant in my life, I always think about it.

What methods should I use, if I should leave a note, how people would react and the only thing keeping me here is the small comfort cocaine gives me, the pain it would cause to my mom and my friends.

"I'm just scared for Nicole. I'm terrified he will hurt her more," I admit and he seems unsure.

"I'll 'talk' to him," he calmly says, air quoting 'talk' and despite his relaxed face, I can tell he is fuming.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't. I'll bring Dominic." I breathe a sigh of relief and he caresses my arm, an immediate feeling of warmth pulsing through my body.

"You are so sweet..." I let my mind speak before I realize and he gives me an innocent smile.

"Perhaps you deserve every ounce of sweetness." He lowers the tone and it gives me butterflies, just like a little child.

Those words... is something I always desired to hear. The fact that he thinks I deserve good things, that I'm not as horrible as I see myself-

He puts his hand on my lower thigh, which makes me slightly flinch, but not in a bad way.

Derek's presence is the most comforting thing.

He drives off with his hand on my thigh and I can't even breathe let alone move. I stare at the views quickly passing by the window and I must look so awkward right now.

"I'd gladly stay with you but I just started working part-time."

"Wait, for real? That's amazing." I congratulate him and he smiles, giving my thigh a pleasurable squeeze that brings back the previous feelings.

Derek, lift that fucking hand before I lose it and kiss you.

I mentally laugh at my thought and it's quite embarrassing, if he could read my mind-

"I just help with repairing cars but it's better than nothing."

"That's kinda hot," I murmur as I imagine him shirtless, sweating, and getting dirty while repairing cars.

He turns to me, giving me a smirk I haven't seen in so long.

I look into his eyes for a few seconds and I accidentally look at his soft lips but I immediately look away, remembering the first time we kissed and how much I miss being that close with him.

He notices and I can tell by his smirk that he knows exactly what I'm thinking about.

"By the way, we can do it again..." Derek teases me while gently caressing my thigh.

Why is my fucking heart racing?

"D- do what?" I stutter as we lock eyes with each other.

He just laughs and I look away embarrassed. We both know 'what'.

"Ouch. You already don't remember?" he jokes and I awkwardly laugh, not knowing what else to say.

Would I kiss him again? Obviously, but I shouldn't want this. What about all that talk of me getting hurt or hurting him?

He truly has no idea what he is getting himself into.

"I think you are still badly injured."

"Oh." He groans, "Yes, my lips are still hurt. Felix punched me really hard." He pouts pointing to his lower lip where he still has a wound.

I know exactly what he is doing.

"I think I might need some further medication..." he teases me and I chuckle.

"I know what you are doing and it's not going to work." I stop him and he smiles.

"Ok, then." He turns his face towards the street as he lifts his hand off my thigh.

It gives me an immediate cold and bare feeling, leaving me longing for more of his touch.

I can tell he is looking at me and smiling from time to time and I don't dare to turn around.

"Stop smiling," I say without looking at him.

"I'm not." He continues smiling and I turn my head, almost uncertain.

He is staring at me with an innocent smile and then he shrugs.

"I hate you, Derek Forster."

"I like it when you say my name." I roll my eyes and he pulls up to my house. I'm unsettled our ride ended.

We both get out of the car which confuses me. He could have just driven off.

He walks to me and I'm glad he did, his slight smell of cologne brings me back to our first kiss. I love it so much and after I was with him, my hoodie was imprinted with it.

"Thank you, again," I say and smile while he mimics my body language.

"Anytime," he says and I walk away, after a few seconds I turn back to look at him.

He waves me goodbye and I smile at how adorable he is.

Fuck, I'm smitten.

As I open the entrance door I immediately smell the lasagna coming from the kitchen and I instantly smile, my mom hasn't cooked since- since he died and she must be in a better mood...

I slowly walk to the kitchen and I see her grabbing the oven mitts as she checks the lasagna on the stove. She seems ecstatic.

But the house feels painfully empty, and so does my heart.

"Sweetheart, you are back!" She gives me a warm smile, tugging her short hair behind her ears.

I give her a hug but I quickly pull away.

I help her set the table and I sit on the chair while she puts the lasagna on the plates.

I thank her and I slowly eat the flavorful lasagna, enjoying every part of it as if it's the last time.

I don't eat much and I surely don't expect her to cook. We mostly eat frozen stuff now.

"Your 17th party is in two weeks. Do you have anything nice planned?" she asks me with a bit of sadness in her voice.

My first birthday without my father. How can I even enjoy it?

I don't reply and she understands why I'm silent.

"You can still-" She pauses, sighing and taking another bite. "You don't have to stop enjoying your life," she finishes and I roll my eyes.

Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore.

"How do you think I feel knowing it's my fault he died?" I slightly raise my tone and she puts the fork down.

"It wasn't your fault, sweetheart."

"You are all lying to me. He would have lived for longer, maybe he would have discovered his disease and treated it, maybe-"

"Stop," my mom says and I get up from the table, I barely took a few bites.

"I'll just go to my room. I'm not hungry anymore," I say and she sighs.

"Take the plate with you, eat something." She seems worried and I sigh frustrated.

She hands me the plate, I take it and I run upstairs. I feel so guilty. Everyone tells me it wasn't my fault but it feels as if I'm the cause he died. As if I killed him.

I need cocaine so badly right now, but all I have is a few cigarettes. I walk to my window, slightly opening it as the cold breeze from early February enters my room.

Under my bed there is a pack of cigarettes and a lighter so I grab it, taking only two cigarettes. I lit them, enjoying every puff and taking in as much smoke as I can.

I roll up my sleeves and I closely analyze my burns from a few weeks ago, some of them are more recent but I have been doing it less lately, maybe because of Derek.

I still can't believe he suspected me but I think he eventually bought my act.

Resisting the urge to press the lit part on my skin is a difficult task but I manage to do it and I roll down the sleeves again.

Then I lift my top, revealing my stomach. I look at the repeated small burns I have on it from the time Felix tried to break down the bathroom door because I was hiding from him.

I hate myself for doing this to my body but I can't seem to stop.

No matter what, it's a constant thought and I can never be truly happy.

——

Do you think Veronica will ever get better?
What would you do differently if you were her?

Thanks for reading, please don't forget to vote and comment!