Warning: This chapter will include mentions of sexual abuse and topics that generally might be sensitive to some.

Read at your own risk!!!

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When the door opens once more, I had planned to bolt, and definitely not let whoever it is on the other side be a distraction.

It doesn't go as planned, when does it ever?

But when my eyes finally take in the person at the door, I freeze.

My breath hitches.

And not in a good way.

I stare at the dead eyes of the man I used to love, used to consider my only, the only man I would ever love.

That's the catch about love, sometimes when you dive in headfirst turning a blind eye to every red flag that passes you by, you will consider yourself unable to leave, that they're the only person who will ever understand you.

Love changes you sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worst, you can never see the outcome of the whole situation until it's too late, until you are wholeheartedly in love with the person.

When whatever chaos that are thrown your way seems easy to face, even if they are impossible.

How the hell had he gotten a hold of drugs so quickly?

"Already high I see," I say in a hesitant voice, wondering which version of him I'll get.

I can't get out, I'm sure of that, so the best option is to try to distract him and maybe by chance it will help with my escape.

From the icy way, his eyes bore into me, I can tell I'm not going to get the good one, I'm going to be presented with the devil version of him, the one he despised to be, but can't help but let it overshadow the other when he's had too much to drink, and too much is inhaled.

Though he did let him back in. Even though on a cold fall day, in what had been our favourite park, he'd told me everything including a promise...

"I don't want you to ever see me like that," He said to me as he tightened his hold on me.

"H-how bad had it gotten?" I asked, he had never opened up to me about this.

"Ens y-"

"No, I do want to know, it's in your past, I love you and want to know everything about you."

"You're so cute, and I love you too,"

He kissed me but not pushing too far, never too far, something I've always appreciated about him.

"You really want to know?" He finally said when I didn't fill the silence, his voice strained with worry.

"Yeah, I do but if you really-"

"No, I do but I've never said this out loud before,"

"Take your time," I said, then turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"First time I got drunk I was eight," he sighed like the words pained him, "my dad came back one day and I was sitting on what he called his couch instead of beating me, he forced me to drink from a bottle, now I know it's vodka I hated it but kept going

"By the time I was nine I think you could say I was addicted, I started doing coke with my dad, and who knows what other drugs, really my hold childhood is basically a blur from there,

"It got worse when I was fourteen," His eyes once again clouded with fear and worry as if he knew the next words that he would say will unlock a door he has never ventured upon.

"You sure you want me to keep going?"

"Only if you want to," he nodded.

"That was the first time I-I r-raped someone, that is one of the few memories I have from all the years. My dad had brought me with him to his friend's house, and told me how he drugged her a-and..."

His words make the air leave me, but I don't say anything, wanting him to get this all off his chest.

"She seemed dead, even if I knew she wasn't. He told me what to do, and he wanted me to show him the condom when I was done. I did it because he promised to give me some of the good stuff.

"I kept doing it, every time he asked, thinking about it sober hurts, because I don't want to go back to that time when I was so desperate for the next high, I didn't even care if I ate I just needed more to scratch that itch,"

Tears had streamed down my face, over the sadness I had felt for him, his whole life tarnished by his own father, he took an innocent child and shoved him into a world of villains.

He turned around and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

Isn't that how most people become bad?

One mistake, one wrong move, a bad influence.

Is it ever truly a person's fault for falling into an inevitable cycle?

Maybe with some people, it is their choice to take that route, but no part of me believes that is the same story with every person.

That was the day that Parker had finally unravelled many of the knots and questions I had.

Like why had he even bothered to come up to me that day?

"Are you okay?"

A gruff voice asked from the close enough vicinity that I could hear him alright above the pouring rain. It was a usual day for it to be raining this hard on a September night.

I was grateful for the weather's mood change, it represented mine, sad, grey and chaotic.

"Fine," I said, turning my head from where it was tucked in between my knees, my hands holding them to my chest, on the soaked bench.

His face was difficult to see, with the hood of his jacket hiding his face.

My mom had always told me to be cautious of strangers.

But she wasn't here, so why should I listen to her fucking advice?

I also started to say the f-word considering she wasn't one to tolerate swearing.

Dumb, but my life was dumber, not that anybody bothered to care.

He came to the bench and sat down.

That day will live on forever in the back of my mind, it had happened in the same park that we always went back and visited, well until it became only a distant memory from the past.

That was the day he had gotten out of rehab.

On the day of my parent's funeral, I had changed from the stuffy dress, into black tights and a black hoodie, and ran out in the rain.

He sat down and attempted to distract me from a problem he hadn't even known what it was at the time.

His kindness and support had fueled me on, he kept me up the surface, and never let me drown.

Even though I knew he liked me he had never shown it, knowing I needed a friend and not a boyfriend.

Until our feelings were both too much to deny.

"I wouldn't fucking be if you were around," he slurred in a loud yell.

"Park-"

"Just shut the fuck up!" He says, making me feel like a small wounded puppy once again, "I heard you have a fucking boyfriend,"

David.

He is probably the only one who would tell him.

"We're not together anymore and we will never be,"

They were the wrong words to say to him because he takes a swig out of a bottle I didn't notice he was holding, letting his eyes trace a long outline of my body.

"Don't do this," I say with fear, taking a grip on what I had just walked into.

I back up to the door trying to open it, I get it an inch before it slams shut, Parker's arm is right next to my head, he leans in and tries to move my face.

No, no.

"Parker please don't do this."

I'm back to the weak girl who begs not to be touched.

Why can't I move, why does my body seem to have become a frozen statue?

I'm once again pulled back to the past even though the memories are a dark fog, most hard to remember this one stays solid, out of all my memories my drunken haze why does this one still need to have a pulse compared to the rest?

"What are you doing?" I ask, feeling hazy. I was asleep in Parker's bed moments ago, I tried to peek at him but my mind is whirring in too many directions as is, to even try.

"What does it look like?" He chuckles, his red eyes looking at me, "Get up so I can take your fucking clothes off."

"P-parker," My voice comes out scared. We were having fun a few hours ago. He had brought a bag with white powder and taught me how to roll a dollar bill and snort some.

I had fun, and it gave me a new addictive high.

"Stop making this fucking difficult,"

"No," I finally managed to say, I felt water on my cheeks, was I crying?

"Stop being a fucking bitch, and get up so I can take all those fucking clothes off."

"Y-you don't want to be your dad."

"I am his son, am I not? There's no stopping it and you know it, I'll always be his son, and you know what that means?"

His voice was like a bullet to my heart, but he's right he has given me so much I should stop, right?

I didn't know I was an intoxicated mess, who knows what's right or wrong?

"Park, please," I sobbed.

"You said you love me so give me this or I'll do this differently,"

I didn't know how to get up, but suddenly I felt a sharp sting on my cheek.

He slapped me.

Then his hand went under my shirt and pinched my breast, I screamed.

He didn't care.

Parker didn't care.

He was right. I knew he was, I should let him, he's probably getting sick of me.

"You know? this will impress him," he says, "taking a fucking virgin like you."

All I could do was sob, as he kept abusing my body.

Finally, I got up, and let him undress me.

He didn't take me slowly, he went in one thrust.

"Tight's fucking thing."

He groaned, biting my neck, then kissing me, nothing like he used to.

I felt the metallic taste of blood in my mouth when he had removed his mouth going to bruise my neck.

I shut my eyes, trying to stop wherever my thoughts had wavered too.

That was the day things finally took a sharp turn to disastrous, his dad had just gotten off the phone with him.

Still in prison but was granted phone privileges.

I had begun getting drunk and high with him for a few months, his addiction had started again after a letter from his father.

"I promise it's only this one time I won't do this again," he slurred from where he was laying down on my aunt Lilly's couch.

His promise went to shit, he couldn't stop with one drink and every time he'd promise that he loves me, and he'll stop.

Though the loving guy I fell hard for became long gone when he started with drugs again.

Slowly transforming before my eyes until I didn't recognize him.

I had been determined to save him from the dark hole he found himself in.

Until he pulled me along with him.

It was one night where he came to me from his old friend's house, drunk and high nothing unusual. That was different I later figured out when he said he'd leave me if I didn't agree to get drunk with him at least once.

The more I drank the less I even recognized myself until I begged him to let me try a bit of molly before long I was also an addict.

Long gone was my former self and a shadow of herself replaced her, my main focus was to find my next high.

It wasn't hard, Parker had started dealing again, and aunt Lilly was away more assuming my friends were sleeping over many times.

She didn't know they left me too.

Leah and Sarah had gotten bored of me constantly blowing them off. I didn't want to tell them the truth about my parents' death.

It was too difficult to admit they were gone.

It was mainly Sarah who convinced Leah that I was a useless excuse for a friend.

I get taken back to reality when I feel an ache on my neck, did he give me a hickey?

​Then the feel of Parker's hands on my stomach.

No, I need to push him away, but my hands weren't on board with the plan.

"Please stop," I begged like a desperate fool.

"Why? I want you so bad and you know you're still mine," his voice was a slurred mess.

"No, I don't want you, stop your not him,"

Even in his state, the words caused him to take a pause.

I didn't have to tell him who 'him' is for him to register the depth of the word.

"Maybe I want to be, I didn't use to believe that there isn't anything better than this life, but back then I still had hope, what a fucking loser I was, but now I know that this is the only way, so stop fucking talking!"

I finally began thrashing in his hold, only adding to his annoyance.

"I didn't want to do this, but you're not giving me a choice," He backed away, and I felt a bit of relief.

Until I felt a sting I was familiar with, no matter how much alcohol and who knows what else was in his system he was still much stronger than me.

This meant that since I wasn't prepared for the hit, I had fell hard on the ground of his floor.

Before I had the chance to get up, he had kicked me in the stomach.

Then I felt the sharp pain again.

Why? Why are people's past ghosts coming to haunt them once again?

For me was to let Parker once again take what he wants.

For Parker it was letting his father's word still be a cliff he grips tightly, as if fearing what would happen if he lets himself fall away and to discover his own path, the cliff isn't tall not enough to ruin him, hurt him, but he still clutches it seeking a man's approval.

Even if said man will never find anything enough.

In a sick way, Parker is still looking to get his dad to see that he can be like him.

To understand he isn't a disappointment of a son.

As wrong and twisted as it seems he wasn't born and destined to become the bad guy.

But somewhere along the way, he had no choice but to adapt to the role.

The one where his father doesn't abuse him, but instead rewards him with things no one should want.

But when you become associated with it, there is no turning back.

I feel the familiar feeling of the rim of some sort of cup, on my lips, it definitely wasn't the vodka he was drinking.

"Drink," His voice is now pure anger.

With blurry eyes, I can see a normal solo cup but looks to be only filled a few inches with some sort of clear liquid.

I hear a slam then his hand is on my jaw pulling, when that doesn't do anything he pinches it for a long moment, I finally open my mouth knowing that was my warning before he hits me again.

"Good girl," He says, tipping the glass into my mouth, I feel a bit dripping along my chin to my neck, the taste is bitter. I swallow it down, too afraid to do otherwise.

The glass is gone and is then replaced by what I can only imagine is the top of a bottle of vodka.

He wants me drunk and high.

I know that as I chug what I can from the bottle knowing I'll pass out soon, from whichever drug he added to the drink, and from the sour taste of the vodka.

I welcome the spinning indistinct feeling that grows around me, the drowsiness I haven't felt in ages considering I stopped taking all this shit.

At least I won't remember a damn thing.

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A u t h o r s N o t e

What did you think of this chapter?

Did this help to understand Parker a bit more?

Anyway, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it and would appreciate a vote and comment.

R.E