Dakota’s P.O.V.
The battle was a losing one, and I refused to fight it. I’ve been on a self-destructive streak, drinking to numb myself from my thoughts. I was lying in my bed, well, at least maybe it’s my bed. The curtains made it dark as night, making it hard to tell what time it was. How did I get here? Hell, what day is it? It could be Sunday morning.
I had the covers pulled over my head, not wanting to move. I hear someone stomp into my room. Who the f**k is here? They jerked the curtains open, letting sunlight flood my room. Thank god I had the covers over my head. The intruder grabbed them and pulled them off the bed. The bright sunshine hit my eyes. Damn, I was hungover.
“What the f**k? I was f*****g sleeping,” I yelled, grabbing my head, the pounding damn near paralyzing me.
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