I sat in the car, just staring off into space. The trees kept passing by in a massive blur. In reality that made me nauseous. I put my hand to my head and closed my eyes, hoping we would hurry up and get to the pizza place.

  I haven't felt good lately. It's probably because I got a wine bottle to the stomach about three days ago when my mom got mad at me. I now have a deep cut in between my belly-button and my left breast. Trust me when I say that hurts, it don't sound bad, but the cut is deep.

"You okay?" Mark questioned, sounding concerned. He turned into the small parking-lot of an old Pizza Hut that we come to a lot.

Mark was still looking at me, awaiting an answer. "Yes, I'm fine." I said quietly. He pulled into a parking space and turned the car off. I went to open the car door but Mark stopped me.

He gently pulled me closer to him and reached to lift my shirt. I jerked away and he looked me in the eye. It was obvious he was concerned but I just did  want to tell him.

Mark sighed and rested his hand on my knee. "Please, I know there's something wrong with your stomach, so please let me see." He conveyed. "How did you know something was wrong?" I questioned because well... How did he know.

"Monday you threw-up, yesterday you wouldn't eat much and today your holding it. So please let me see." He told me and once again pleaded. Sympathy was obvious in his eyes.

"Okay, just don't get mad at me for not telling you."I sighed. It wasn't that I was scared of him being mad at me, it's that I'm scared of him getting mad at my mother or something around that nature. I don't think he would do anything because he's pretty calmed natured, but I don't want to feel guilty.

Mark pulled my shirt up and examined what was there. A large cut that still was somewhat opened and a very large bruise that covered most of my stomach and breast. His fingers traveled along the cut, I flinched away when it started to hurt.

"How far up does that cut go?" He asked. I thought for a second. In all honesty I haven't really looked at it. I'm scared to know how deep it actually is. 

"I don't know, I'm kinda of scared to look." I spoke somewhat whimpering. He looked at me almost as if he told me to show him. Strange, right?

I looked down and lifted my bra a little until the cut stopped. I got lucky because it didn't go to far up, so I didn't have to show him that much.

As Mark examined more of the bruise and scare on my chest, something shone in his eyes. An emotion that I can't quite put my finger on what it is. It almost looked like he was restraining himself from something. And my suspicion was verified. His hand was squeezing the leather seat in the car like his life depended on it.

And his other hand was tense as it traveled along my swollen front side. What was he restraining from? Is he hiding something? No, we're best friends, he wouldn't do that. Then what was wrong? He hasn't really acted like this before around me.

Mark's grip on the seat got tighter and he put more pressure on where he was touching me. "Ow!"  I gasped. 

His eyes, that I didn't realized were closed, popped back open and his hand pulled away. "Sorry!" He apologized. 

My gaze looked to a hand print that was left on his seat. I looked at him, worriedly. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Lets go inside." He said quickly, when he noticed my worried look. Something strange just happened and I have know idea what actually just happened. That probably made no since.

Mark hopped out of the car and I followed. A grin was covering his face like nothing happened. He took my hand and we walked inside. Strange.

But I smiled to. "Are you going to want anything to eat?" Mark inquired. I thought for a second. (I felt like eating something with bacon so yes. "Yeah I guess, Something with bacon." I responded. 

"Good, we can share. I want bacon to." He jokingly confessed. I smiled and went to sit down as he ordered.

Mark came back, with a pizza and to drinks in hand. He put the pizza on the table and handed me one of the drinks. "What is this?" I spoke pointing to the drink. "Sweet tea." Mark grinned. "You know me so well!" I laughed and took a drink of the tea.

"What are you drinking?" I asked him, with the same grin he just held. "Sweet tea." Mark assured. I laughed and garbed a piece  of pizza. The pizza tasted like heaven. I couldn't help it, I was so hungry from not eating. I might get sick but it's worth it.

Mark grabbed a piece but watched me eat my second piece. "It seems good." Mark said watching me grab my third. I nodded and took a bite of it. "It tastes like heaven." I managed to say as I ate it. 

"There's a lady, who's sure all that's greasy is food and she's eating the stairway to heaven." Mark sang and I burst out laughing. The people in the booth next to us started to laugh to. I rolled my eyes at him while laughing.

I allowed Mark to eat couple of pieces and there was one more left. I went to grab it and so did Mark. "You can have it." I told him, even though I wanted it.

I watched as he took the piece and split it, he gave me half. I ate it and finished off my tea. "I'll go throw this away." I told him and picked up a bunch of napkins. He looked at me and nodded.

I walked over to the trash can. On my way back to Mark I felt something hard hit my stomach. I bent down and clutched it.

"Oh, damn, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" I heard someone say. I looked up to see Guy, one of Marks friends that way in detention with us.

"Yeah, I think." I told him and he helped me back to the table. I sat down and panted. I felt like a dog but I had to do it.

"What happened?" Mark asked. "Oh, Guy hit me in the stomach." I told him. Anger shot through his eyes and I realized that I forgot to say it wasn't on purpose. "Oh whoops, I men't to say that he didn't mean to."

Mark calmed down but that didn't last long. He jumped back up and looked to the door way. I turned my head to look and saw Jessica walk through the door. She looked around, saw me with Mark and started to walk over to us.

"You little B*tch, why are you with my boyfriend again?" She piratically screamed in my ear and dragged me out of my  seat. "I've known him longer." I said as calm as I could. 

She let out an annoying high pitch screech like thing and slapped me. "I don't care if your his sister, I don't want him around other girls." She again yelled at me, people started to look at us. "He's aloud to do what he wants. One second your yelling at him and next your yelling at anyone who looks at him. Sl*t." I mumbled. 

Jessica started stomping her feet like a three year old. "Jessica, you told me earlier that you wanted to brake-up so you know what, we're braking up. So you can go get your make-up covered face out of here and leave Lissa alone." Mark told her. That surprised me I thought he was going to be mad at me.

"Oh, so this little b*tch has a name, I see-" She turned to look at me and continued,"-this is your fault!" Jessica scream and slapped me again and hit my stomach.

I saw Mark jump up out of the corner of my eye, but out of instinct I punched Jessica square in the eye. Before Mark could stop her she pushed me into the table and I hit my stomach.

All of the greasy food I ate earlier started to come back up and my stomach started to bleed. The cut opened back up.

I grabbed my stomach and started looking around. I saw the bathroom sign and took off for it. I could hear Jessica screaming at me and Mark screaming at her in the distance, but I could care less I just need to find the bathroom.

I turned into the small hallway where the bathroom is and looked for the women's.  Once I found it I ran in and luckily their was no one in there. I ran to last stall, not even bothering to close it's door and bent over the toilet.

I heard the restroom door open again and all I could do was pray to god it wasn't Jessica. Please Jesus, God I don't need her in here with me as I empty everything in my stomach. 

I got even more scared when I heard footsteps in my stall. I wanted to yell 'occupied' but I couldn't. 

I was in for a big surprise. I could see the top of someones head. Somewhat curly, blond hair. I felt someone pull my hair back. Large hands started rubbing my back while I through up my stomach. This hurts, this hurts, this hurts so badly. There is even blood in my throw-up.

I looked down. Oh my god there's blood on the floor. The hands on me started to hug me in attempt to comfort. I knew it was Mark, there is no way that's a female hands on my back. I hope he doesn't get into trouble for coming into the women's bathroom.

 This hurts so badly, why can't I stop throwing up? Why am I throwing up blood? I don't want to go to the emergency room. So many bad things ran through my head. What if this somehow kills me.

A tear ran down my face, then another one. "Don't cry, please, it's gonna be okay. Your gonna be okay. I promise nothing is gonna happen. I want let it." Mark whispered. It calmed me down a little and I stopped throwing up. Yes!

I turned to look at him and he smiled at me. I somehow managed to give a weak smile back. Mark got off his knee's and sat down on the cold bathroom floor, he crossed his legs and pulled me into his lap. I looked down at my AC/DC shirt.

It was ruined, covered in blood. The restroom floor was covered in blood and throw-up. My eyes were probably red and my nose and throat burned.

"Are you okay now?" Mark asked. I thought for a second and I new that most likely when I got up I would feel sick again. "I don't think so." I coughed, my voice sounded so weak.

The bathroom door opened and Mark rapped his arms around my shoulder. The intense smell of food making me nauseous again. Mark turned around and pulled me along with him. I clutched my stomach so I didn't throw up on him.

There were to men standing in front of us. The first one was a police officer and the second one was an elderly looking man and is name tag read 'manager'. 

"Sir, your under arrest for violating a women's restroom." The police officer told Mark very seriously. 

"How am I violating a women's restroom?" Mark asked. Stupid question Mark. I rolled my eyes but my stomach started to turn again.

"Your in the women's restroom with a woman and you have no reason to be in here with her." The police sternly told Mark like he was an idiot.

"She's sick! Can't you see." Mark defended himself while pointing at the toilet where blood and throw up was. The police officer turned to look at me. "How did that cut get there?" He asked. 

"The woman that probably called you, Jessica, did it to her." Mark answered for me. The officer looked at me as if he was expecting me to say yes or no to what Mark said. I nodded my head as if to say, 'yes its true,' even though in away it wasn't.

"Sir, may I ask your name?" The police officer looked at Mark. "Mark Free, sir." Mark muttered. "Mr. Free, your under arrest, there's not enough evidence to show this lady here is sick." The officer said. I looked at the man like he was crazy, how can he not tell I'm sick.

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A/N

So in this chapter whats true is that Free had a friend named Guy Allison that became a real famous keyboardist. I don't think that, that many people are reading this but those who are I hope you had a happy new years, I know I did because I went to watch my state's fruit drop. Everybody got to suggest songs for it and I got there early so I got to choose every song they played. It was rockin'. It started off with Damn Yankees High Enough went into Anytime by Mcauley Schenker Group then Lonely is the Night: Billy Squire, Smoke on the Water I hope you know who that is by but if you don't its Deep Purple. Rock the Night by Europe then I ended 2018 with The Final Countdown. Left listening to Bells of Freedom by Bon Jovi. Anyways Vote, Comment, Follow all that stuff!!!