The Butler

Chapter 9- Blame

>Trigger warning. Is anyone having trouble with the story loading? If so, I shall reupload itthanks for the pictures. You got a good body, but too bad about your face. 

I looked down and screamed. My breathing got shorter and heavier. I was sweating, and I started having chest pains. I got hit with a tsunami wave of nausea, so I turned around and instantly hurled into the toilet. I felt like the world was coming down on me, and I couldn't breathe as I started panting. I tried to cover my naked body with the clothes that were thrown on the ground as I tried to catch my breath. I sat in the unsanitary public restroom trying to calm myself. I wrapped my arms around me as my trembling started. I sat there until I could breathe, and I wasn't so nauseous. I still felt shaky as I put my undergarments and clothes back on. 

Was I assaulted? I couldn't feel pain though. Why am I going through this? Where was Damon? Thoughts and questions raced my mind. I wanted to leave this school. I thought Caleb was a bully, but I was wrong. They were monsters. I dug my fingernails into my hand. I shouldn't have come today. This was my fault. If only I wasn't born. I started wishing for my life to end and blaming myself. 

I stumbled myself out of the stall after dressing myself and saw my backpack on the floor. I saw there was a note on it. I picked it up. It said: you weren't assaulted. Don't think about coming for me. You have no proof. I'll leak this on the internet if you try. I crumbled it into my hand wishing it was his whole existence that I was destroying instead and tossed it on the floor. I left my backpack in the men's restroom and numbly lumbered out to go home, leaving everything that reminded me of this school here. I dug into my pockets for my phone and opened it to text Damon.

"Hey Damon. I don't know if you will read this, but I miss you. I just hope you're safe. I-"

A single tear plopped on my cell phone screen as my vision became hazy. I turned off my phone and shoved it back into my pocket. I let the tears fall silently as I walked an hour and thirty minutes home in hopes that the tears could wash the feeling of dirtiness away.