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Star Patient: Chapter 7 (FINISHED SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 15,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

The sound of holy hymns filled the tall church, the painting of a man looming over (Y/N) as she avoided the male’s eyes. Religious paintings just always looked creepy, their eyes just always followed you. What was even more creepier is making prolonged eye contact with the same boy for two minutes now.

Bright brown eyes stared at her own for 120 seconds now, 115 seconds too long for a normal gander to be. Perhaps he was just looking at the people behind her? Or maybe she has something on her face? Dear God, please don’t let it be that he can hear just how awful she sounds when singing. It was like her voice was a sin to this holy choir.

(Y/N) finally broke eye contact with the male, deciding to look back at the painting of the sacred male. Even he wasn’t as creepy as that boy’s staring was, whatever his name was.

The church reeked of burning incense and an old lady’s strong floral perfume. It almost hurt having her mother and some strange next to her singing—practically screaming—into her ears while she did her best to memorize the lyrics. It was hard to remember what came after “I’ve been set free” when all she could think about was being set free to the food trucks outside calling her name for lunch.

Finally, the song ended as she sung the finally sentence.

“You are forever mine.”

What a creepy thing to say to anyone, to any god or not.

(Y/N) stretched her limbs, earning herself a swat to her arm as her mother whispered for her to fix her dress before it rides up on her. She smoothed down her dress skirt, reaching behind and fluffing the white bow sewn to the dark blue dress.

She was excited to go eat some food, then get out of these damn flats that kept pinching her toes. She watched as people filed out of the church, making her eyes meeting bright brown ones as they stared at her through the crowd.

Has he even looked away once during this whole session?

.

“Hey, maybe he likes you?” Lola suggested, lounging on the library couch, taking up most of the space as her arm draped over the arm rest, her legs lying on (Y/N)’s thighs.

“God, I hope not…” (Y/N) groaned, tilting her head back to hit the couch cushion just to be a bit more dramatic. “I don’t even know his name. That’s grounds for instant rejection.”

“Well, is he cute?” Lola questioned, curious as she watched (Y/N) copy notes from her computer onto her notebook.

“I mean… I dunno? I think?” (Y/N) shrugged. “Gosh, Lo. You know I don’t ever notice that. Looks aren’t everything, you know?”

“Well, my future husband is definitely gonna have brown hair, brown eyes to match and a dashing, symmetrical face." Lola smirked.

“Please, you’re asking too much. Your face isn’t even symmetrical.” Annabelle scoffed, sitting on the harsh library carpets.

“Shut up! I’m gonna get laser surgery for this mole when I have enough money!” Lola whined, hitting Annabelle upside the head.

“I meant your nose, dummy!” Annabelle hissed, cradling her head where she’s been hit. "But that too!"

“Jerk!” Lola exclaimed, going to hit Annabelle once more, but Annabelle was quick enough to catch her wrist. “Stop touching me, Anna!”

“Then you stop hitting me!” Annabelle retorted as their hands wrestled with one another.

“Hey, hey! Stop! You’re messing up my notes!” (Y/N) hissed, hitting her shoulder against Lola’s.

“Stop, that’s not fair. You’re double-teaming!” Lola whined.

The school bell rung, prompting the three to halt their fight. (Y/N) packed up her notebook and computer with a sigh.

“Damn it… I didn’t get to finish my notes.” (Y/N) complained, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder.

“I don’t know how you do it, girl. Being a nurse sounds like it’s such a drag, having to kiss up to everyone’s ass.” Lola sighed, looking at her hands to make sure her nail polish didn’t get ruined during their tussle. “Ah, damn it, Annabelle! You chipped my nail!”

“Which one?” Annabelle questioned, looking over at Lola’s yellow nails.

“This one.” Lola smirked, holding up her middle finger.

“You little—“

(Y/N) yelped, her body hitting the wall as her legs gave out from the unexpected force, knocking her to the ground. Two hands grabbed the collar of her blazer, pulling her right back up to her feet as they cornered her against the wall.

“Was it you?” a male spoke, his fists shaking with anger as his green eyes met (Y/N)’s.

“Hey! Hands off her, Ben!” Annabelle spat out, her hand touching the male’s shoulder.

“Bud out, I’m talking with the freak!” Ben hissed, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “Was it you?” he repeated, his eyes glaring back at (Y/N).

“I can’t confirm anything if you don’t tell me, moron.” (Y/N) retorted, annoyed as she tried to pry his hands off her.

An uncomfortable feeling grew inside her stomach at the close proximity they shared, the tension downright suffocating as she resisted the urge to puke.

Dear stomach, don’t let me vomit on him… I’ll never go to school again. (Y/N) prayed to her stomach.

“Did you steal my wallet?” he finally spoke. “I had a three hundred dollars in cash and two gift cards, did you steal them?!”

“Lay off, dude. She was with us this morning!” Lola spoke.

“Yeah, I didn’t steal anything.” (Y/N) huffed, finally prying his hands off her blazer’s collar.

“I swear to God, if it was you I’ll kill you.” Ben spat, his finger jabbing into her sternum. “You’re a freak, just like your father.” He spoke, before storming off down the school hallways.

“What an asshole.” Lola scoffed.

“People like that shouldn’t be let loose into the public.” Annabelle growled, before looking at (Y/N). “You okay?”

“I’m just fine and dandy. Everything’s intact.” (Y/N) muttered, dusting off her blazer and skirt. “It’s not like he stabbed me or anything, so I’m fine.”

“Jeez, girl. You really need to be more… phased? Like, get pissed off at him! Punch him! Kick him in the balls!” Lola encouraged.

“Why would I waste my time on such pointless things…?” (Y/N) sighed, subconsciously picking at her nails. “I mean, Ben’s been doing this crap since middle school.”

“He doesn’t have any right to treat you like that!” Annabelle huffed. “If you won’t kick him in the balls, I will.”

“Can we not talk about Ben’s balls?” (Y/N) whined, a bit embarrassed at this stupid topic. “Just forget it, guys. I mean, this is senior year. We’re going to be graduating in three months, then I’ll never see him again so the problem will be solved.”

“The Almighty Lord blessed you with something I don’t have; patience.” Lola sighed, fanning her face exaggeratedly to show how heated she was about the matter.

“The offer is still on the table if you want me to—“

“No.” (Y/N) interrupted Annabelle, who just sent a pouting glare her way.

Annabelle was a short, black haired girl with brown eyes and a serious passion for weightlifting. She even won an award for the best high school female-weightlifter in the state, being able to carry Annabelle was (Y/N)’s best friend since pre-school. They met in the sand box, where a boy stomped out (Y/N)’s sandcastle, so Annabelle dumped sand in his hair. That sand was in his hair for at least a couple days—it looked like lice to where the caregivers had to inspect and comb through everyone’s hair to make sure there wasn’t a lice that would soon infect other kids.

They met Lola during their first year of middle school. Lola came into the year late as a new girl. She had bleached blonde hair with pink highlights in them (her natural hair color is unknown since she’s been dying it since she was six, not even in her photo gallery does she have a picture of her natural hair).

Lola hit it off with Annabelle instantly, the two meeting in after school’s photography club—which is the cover name. In actuality, it’s mostly just a place for friends to hang out after school and lie to their parents about doing important school stuff; however, the club does take pictures of pep assemblies and football games for the yearbook (albeit half of the photos are crappy and extremely unflattering).

The two girls are always begging (Y/N) to join the club, (Y/N)’s always rejected because she’s studying for college and to keep her college scholarship for a extremely well-liked nursing academy. After graduating that academy as a nurse, she can continue studying and work up the ranks to become a pediatrician!

So she has no time to be fooling off inside a club. She didn’t have that time as she did back in middle school. Well, she was practically a shell of a person.

(Y/N) got hit with a large wave of depression. She’s not quite sure why it just suddenly came up on her. Maybe it was because of the abuse she suffered as a child, maybe it was because of the bullying she would receive at school because of who her father was, or maybe it was because she didn’t have a good personality or looks. Whatever it was, it weighed her down for months, making it hard to get out of bed, hard to shower, hard to eat, hard to brush her teeth. Everything ached with pain. She didn’t know what hurt more; her brain or her heart? Annabelle and Lola were there for her though. They would encourage her to eat a little, to step outside for a bit, to shop for new clothes that would make her feel comfortable. Even after multiple suicide attempts, they never blamed her for how she felt, and they never gave up on her. Maybe the only reason she quit dying was because of them.

“Hey, the bell is gonna ring in a minute.” Lola pointed out, holding her phone as she stared at the time, her 2008’s preppy Hello Kitty aesthetic wallpaper staring at her.

“Damn.” Annabelle sighed, disappointed as she rubbed her neck. “Well, see you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

The two girls still had club after school, so they’ll be seeing each other. After lunch, (Y/N) doesn’t have any classes with them, so lunch is her last chance to see her friends before leaving school.

“Stay shining, star girl!” Lola spoke, sending (Y/N) her own starry smile as she referenced (Y/N)'s star hairlip, her lips coated in a light transparency of pink strawberry lipgloss.

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick. If I’m late to class or not be damned.” (Y/N) smiled, waving them off as she parted ways with them.

(Y/N) glided down the hallway, before reaching the bathroom, pushing open the door and immediately making a dash to the toilet without even bothering to close the stall door. She dropped to her knees, balancing herself by placing her hands on the walls (so she wouldn’t touch the dirty toilet) and puked.

She had been holding that in ever since Ben slammed her up against that wall and shouted at her. The scene was absolutely terrifying to her, being trapped so close to an aggressive male like that did not feel good in the slightest.

How the hell do romance protagonists go through that? (Y/N) questioned herself, before another wave of nausea hit her as she thought about earlier, prompting her to lean over and puke once more.

Her father taught her many things in life; to raise a chicken and slaughter a chicken, to ride a horse and clean horseshoes, to tell the difference between ripe and unripe fruits, and to never trust a boy.

“Boys are disgusting creatures.” He would say.

“You should never trust a boy.” He would say.

“Boys only care about their satisfaction and pleasure. Everything about you is irrelevant.” He would say.

But men and boys are different. What makes a boy a boy is that they’re stupid, immature, and selfish. A man is someone who sacrifices themself for their family, and treats his wife and daughter with respect and kindness.

How can you tell the difference between a man and a boy if it’s not puberty that separates them? How do you know until before it’s too late?

Truth is, her father has always been distrustful of men in general—though he’s never explained why. She has a feeling it’s because of his upbringing. Maybe he grew up in a bad neighborhood, or maybe he had an abusive father; whatever it was, he didn’t want (Y/N) knowing about it.

But even though he hates boys with a passion that rivals the Greek Goddess of Passion Aphrodite, sometimes he doesn’t always act like a man.

There’s been moments where he’s screamed, punched holes inside the walls, been gone for nights after a time, on a very rare chance break stuff. Sometimes he remembers the episodes, sometimes he doesn’t. When he does remember them, he cries and apologizes, hugging (Y/N)’s mother Rose and her. He cries about how sorry he was, and how he doesn’t mean to overreact, and how he begs them not to leave because of his problem.

Rose will never leave; she likes the familiarity of her home town and the memories of the farm. (Y/N) knows she’ll never leave the farm.

The farm is extremely important to the town. It provides lots of the local strawberries for bakeries and jams. It provides the church parties to have their famous loaded mashed potatoes and potato bread. It provides Rose’s pockets with money in cold hard cash. The farm is so damn rich that it even regularly transported goods to three different states nearby.

Rose is sitting on a hill of riches supported by her family’s farm of 120 acres all the way on the edge of the small, close-knit town. The farm was passed down in Rose’s family for three generations now. The farm is so important that every inheritor must only have one child, that way the children can’t fight over the farm when the parent dies.

(Y/N) is expected to have a single child too, her mother has drilled that into her head enough. Rose always babbles on about how (Y/N) will inherit the farm when she dies. Her daughter must not be a whore and spread her legs for any boy; he must be a farmer, he must be her husband, and they must only have one child.

Rose is extremely serious about the farm, despite it being farmhands who tend to the farm. Rose doesn’t help out, she decided to become a nurse for some more money.

People think “Oh, Rose is so good, but her husband Frank is just a monster” but in actuality Rose is more of a monster than (Y/N) is.

(Y/N) spent the early years of her life locked in her damn room because of that witch. (Y/N) was forced to starve for hours to even days at a time while Frank laid unaware of what was going on to his daughter. Frank was consistently discriminated against, and constantly on his feet burning and cutting his fingers off in the auto shop, working grueling hours from open to closed because of mandatory overtime (which was actually just to drive the poor bastard out of down, or at least make him suffer for his condition “the Devil himself” gave him).

Frank had no idea the abuse and neglect (Y/N) received. (Y/N) wasn’t even aware it was abuse because she grew up like that ever since she was potty-trained.

(Y/N)’s early years revolved around watching TV, sleeping, and crying. Well, at least she had water she would drink out of the bathroom sink.

Rose spent the time working while (Y/N) was locked up, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to shove (Y/N) in that dreadful dark room just for her to neglect her duties as a parent. Anything to get out of cooking, cleaning, or spending bonding time with her daughter.

Another wave of nausea hit (Y/N) as she vomited once more. Her throat burned from her stomach acid and stomach enzymes. Her lungs hurt trying to breathe whilst her heart slammed against her rib cage. Her ears were ringing and her eyes had tears in them.

A flash and a camera shutter got her attention, causing her to spin her head around to look at the source, only for another shutter to echo in the bathroom walls as she was blinded by a bright light.

“Looks like the freak is self-purging.” A girl laughed. “This has to at least go viral on some platform. Not that you’re much to look at though.”

(Y/N) groaned, her throat aching from the vibration as she closed her eyes, cursing herself for not shutting the stall door.

“Y-you got it wrong…” (Y/N) muttered, meeting the girl’s blue eyes.

Kate’s had it out for (Y/N) for who knows how long. Kate’s been more of a bully than Ben has, and for longer too. Kate’s dad works with (Y/N)’s father Frank, and they don’t get on good terms (either because of her father’s disorder or because of Frank being given Kate’s dad’s hours for “mandatory overtime” only Frank has to do). Maybe because Kate’s dad hates (Y/N)’s father, Kate hates (Y/N)?

(Y/N)’s eyes glanced over at the girls who were with Kate. Jen and Shell; though their real names were Jenny and Shelly. They were sisters, but honestly they’re pretty irrelevant in (Y/N)’s eyes. She just couldn’t bother to care enough about them since they didn’t speak much. Their current goal in life is to piggyback off of Kate, but maybe in the future they’ll mature and go their own separate paths—that at least make’s (Y/N) a little happy for change.

“I wasn’t throwing up food. You took this out of context…” (Y/N) muttered, wiping her mouth with toilet paper.

“Right… looks like…” Kate took a few steps to the stall, standing behind (Y/N), making uncomfortable shivers crawl up her spine. “Looks like the cafeteria pizza. What? Are you saving it for dinner tonight?” Kate snarked before smiling. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were starving yourself. Everyone knows you tried to kill yourself—I think that's the best idea you've had in your miserable life."

In a small town like this, gossip gets around quick. One of her doctors or nurses were probably a parent to one of the kids here, so they let something slip. It breaches hospital code in keeping patient's confidential, but in a small town like this, there's not much consequences.

A flame of annoyance flickered in (Y/N) eyes, a boiling pit in her stomach. She stood up, dusting the rocks and dirt off her knees. She looked at Kate with distain, her eyes flickering towards Kate’s phone.

She could throw the stupid plastic flip-phone into the toilet and flush it down, but she decided against it. There were three girls against herself, so the odds of winning a fight are not in her favor at the moment. Besides, (Y/N)'s trapped inside the stall, so her escape options are limited in case she does start a fight. She could bulldoze her way between the three girls, but then again, that's three girls. She can't really crawl under the stall because someone can just grab her leg and pull her right back—so she's at a disadvantage to win a fight.

“We’re late for class.” (Y/N) sighed. “I recommend getting to class soon, otherwise Mr. Jones will throw a fit.

Kate glared at (Y/N) as she walked past them, muttering the smart words of “stupid bitch…”

(Y/N) made it out of the bathroom safely, and without a fight too.

Let them post that photo. (Y/N) thought, her footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. It’s not gonna be the end of the world. I’ve had worse.

I’ve had worse.

That’s always been the same stupid excuse she’s used whenever someone bad happens to her in life. She just can’t accept that she’s allowed to be angry, or sad, or afraid of anything; it’s always “I’ve had worse.”

She could fall down a set of stairs and ruin her science project she’s spent a month on, 70 bucks down the drain, but “I’ve had worse. At least I’m not admitted in a hospital room again.”

She could break her arm falling off one of her horse’s, but “I’ve had worse, at least I’m not starving.”

When will it be worse? What’s gonna top the next thing?

Because eventually, there’s gonna be something worse. There’s always something worse for (Y/N).

A notification pops up on her phone, prompting (Y/N) to check it.

“Online transfer: +$300”

“What the…?” she muttered, confused.

A minute later, another notification popped up.

“Withdrawal: -$300”

Ah, it must be one of her parents. Her parents has access to her banking accounts and information, so one of them must’ve accidentally sent money to the wrong account and quickly withdrew the payment.

She goes back to her classroom, receiving a stink eye from the teacher, Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones also wasn’t a fan of (Y/N), well, more so her father. During the summer enrollment, you got to check out your classes and meet your teachers. Frank was absolutely livid to see a male as (Y/N)’s teacher. He was knocking down chairs and cussing a storm that the principal had to be brought down and threatened to call the cops if Frank didn’t leave.

It’s a miracle (Y/N) didn’t get expelled with some shitty excuse or something because of that scandal. Maybe that’s because this high school was the only one in their small town, and (Y/N) was about to graduate soon, so there would’ve been no point in trying to destroy her education when she’s so close to leaving.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” Mr. Jones spoke, placing his dry eraser marker down, halting the learning of the classroom. “Wanna tell the class what was so important that you just had to skip the first ten minutes of my class?”

(Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She missed the days where elementary teachers would get down on your level and whisper to you so you wouldn’t get embarrassed in front of the class.

Or maybe she just wants to be coddled like a child…

“I’m sorry, sir. I had a period problem.” (Y/N) lied.

She had no shame or embarrassment, not with lying, and not talking about her body functions either. She was a human with a uterus, so if the teacher had a problem with then, then the school will too (or, at least they should).

“Oh.” Mr. Jones scoffed, not entirely convinced. “Nice save. But if it happens again next week, I’ll be onto you.”

Yeah, he wouldn’t dare go against the teaching board. Even if he did, the student body of females would protest; (Y/N) may not be the most popular, but when it comes to woman functions, girls got each other’s back.

Or they should.

“Go take your seat.” Mr. Jokes spoke.

(Y/N) walked down the row of students, jumping over Ben’s foot as he tried to trip her. She made it to her desk safely in the back of the class.

Mr. Jones assigned the seats, perhaps he assigned her in the back so he wouldn’t see her father and be reminded of her father. Or maybe he just doesn’t like her in general.

(Y/N) sat down in her seat, confused to see someone had taken the desk next to her. That desk was always empty due to how small the student body was. It was a small town after all, so there were always empty seats in classrooms.

She recognized those brown eyes—it was the boy from her church.

She was surprised. He was never in her class before until now.

She decided to look away before he caught her staring, but he was watching her to begin with, ever since she walked into the classroom.

“Hey, I’ve seen you around before.” The boy spoke, looking at her. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

Damn it. She has to talk with a boy? Out of all the other females around?

“Um… yeah…” (Y/N) nodded awkwardly. “How do you know my name?”

“We go to church together.” He smiled. “I’m Ren. Ren Itami.”

“Japanese?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah. My parents moved here from Japan when they had me.” The boy, Ren, nodded.

“Cool…” (Y/N) muttered, figuring the conversation was done, before Ren spoke again.

“I just transferred classes today. My other teacher wasn’t good at teaching in a way I could understand, so it was only hindering my education.” Ren explained.

“I see…” (Y/N) hummed, not too interested in what else he had to say.

So that’s why he’s in her class now. Still, she doesn’t want to talk with him. Just talking with this guy gives her the chills, but she just can’t understand why.

.

A month or two has passed, (Y/N)’s not too sure how long it’s been actually, days always seem to blend together now. She goes to school, does her chores on the farm, then studies for college.

She’s been busting her ass for a nursing school she’s been dreaming to go to; the best news is that in freshmen year, the school reached out to her after she scored top grades in her biology and health classes. They offered her a fully-paid scholarship, including dorm renting and free cafeteria food!

With a scholarship like that, you’re damn right she’s studying hard.

It was passing period, the hallways bustling with students as people made their way from class to class. Some kids stopped and stared at (Y/N), much to her annoyance.

Her father had an episode in town again, muttering something about being followed by a man. He filed police reports, but they ignored him per usual as this was a case they’ve reported about before, only to be a waste of time as there’s no evidence to prove it.

Frank got angry at his reports being ignored, so he stared yelling inside the police department, which quickly remained in him spending overnight in jail until he’s calmed down and no longer a threat to himself or others. He didn’t get any charges filed against him due to his medical condition, so he got lucky.

Of course, if Frank is a nut show, then his daughter must be a nut show too. That’s the logic around this town.

Well, at least Lola and Annabelle didn’t think like that. They were (Y/N)’s true friends.

“I swear, nobody can mind their damn business anymore.” Annabelle gruffed, more annoyed about the situation than (Y/N) was.

“It’s fine, Annabelle. Things just happen.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Hey, it’s seriously not fine.” Lola scoffed. “You shouldn’t be treated like this. It’s not like you control what your dad does.”

“If anyone messes with you, I’ll punch them.” Annabelle smiled.

“Don’t bother…” (Y/N) hummed. “We have like… one more month until graduation. There’s no point.”

But alias, problems always seem to occur for (Y/N). As she walked down the hallway, a shoulder bumped into her roughly, causing her to stagger before turning around.

“Freak.” Ben sang, smirking as he walked by her.

“What’s his problem all the time?” Lola scoffed, glaring at the boy.

(Y/N) let out a sigh to calm her nerves, annoyed, before moving past it—but Ben wasn’t just ready to move on.

“Hey. I’m talking to you, freak.” Ben scoffed, walking back towards her.

“Leave me alone, asshole.” (Y/N) hissed.

“Make me.” Ben challenged, pushing her.

“Hey, fuck off!” Lola exclaimed, to which Ben ignored her.

“Stop. It.” (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth, and for once, pushing him back harder.

“What the—“ Ben huffed, surprised, before he quickly pushed her with more force.

“Ben, st—“ Annabelle was cut off, shocked as (Y/N) threw a punch to his face.

“Fuck you, Ben!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shoving him away from her by using her shoulder.

Her legs shook, adrenaline and fear pumping through her veins, her fists clenching and unclenching as she realized what she just did. She’s done it now.

Ben touched the side of his face, shocked as it swelled, before his fist balled up. A crowd formed around them, watching to see what will go down, holding their flip phones in their hands.

Before he could land a punch, some stepped out of the crowd and grabbed Ben’s arm, pinning him up against the wall.

“You shouldn’t hit a lady.” The third party spoke.

“Ren?” (Y/N) questioned, surprised.

“Get off me!” Ben barked, squirming under Ren’s hold.

Ren had appeared so fast, it was like he was here the whole time.

“T-thanks.” (Y/N) spoke, taking a few shaky steps backwards, before forcing her away out of the crowd of students, making her way to the nearest trash can and throwing up.

“Ugh… damn it…” she muttered, knowing she was done for, for real this time as people recorded her.

Yep. Sounds about right for (Y/N), just her luck.

She scanned the crowd, unsure exactly what she was looking for. Her eyes met his bright brown ones, before she closed her own.

I really hate being alive… she thought.

.

. (Y/N) had got called into the principal’s office later that day along with Ben. Some other students were there to recall the events and explain their side of the story, including Ren.

It really didn’t matter who was at fault, both of them got suspended under the excuse: “We don’t condone any sort of violence during school premises.”

You can just say that you don’t want the backlash from the bully’s parents and their friends. (Y/N) thought to herself, but she kept that thought in the hatch.

The walk back home hurt. The whole day she had trembling legs and shaky hands, it seemed every hour she was near a trash can throwing up. She was severely dehydrated, light headed, and really just wanted to go home and cry in the shower.

It was a hot day, making the walk home worse. Because of how big her family’s farm was, she lived on the outskirts of town, making her walk longer. The town didn’t have any public transportation due to how small the town was, the buses would’ve clogged up all the morning rush hour traffic where adults try to get to work on time, so buses weren’t a thing in their town.

There was sweat dripping down her forehead, her back uncomfortably wet as her backpack dragged down her posture, and she wanted nothing more but to just give up. Give up walking, give up life—practically the same thing.

She made it to her house and unlocked the gate, seeing a figure sitting in her family’s rocking chair on the porch. The figure noticed her, before it stood up, running towards her.

(Y/N) removed her backpack straps and threw it on the ground, before running and meeting the figure, engulfing them in a hug.

“Papa.” She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, the sun burning the top of her head.

“Oh, (Y/N). I got a call from the school. What were you thinkin'? Fightin' against a boy? You know boys are stronger than girls!” Frank spoke, quickly letting go of her as he looked at her hands and face for any marks.

“I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me.” (Y/N) spoke. “But he started it! He pushed me first so I pushed back!”

“He touched you?” Frank gasped. “What a freak! Boys nowadays need to learn some manners and keep their hands to themselves.”

“I was so scared, Papa.” (Y/N) sniffled, wiping the tears and snot off her face.

“Oh, I bet.” Frank sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go inside. There’s a fresh pitcher of tea waitin’ for you.”

(Y/N) nodded, picking her backpack up off the ground and following him back inside the house.

Her mother sat in her loveseat, watching the news on the TV. She turned her attention at the door, before motioning for (Y/N) to come over and sit on the couch across from her.

“Frank, those blueberries should be in season to now. Could you go harvest them?” Rose ordered, finding an excuse for Frank to leave.

“Sorry, sport.” Frank sighed, patting (Y/N)’s shoulder, before walking out the door.

“I got a call from your principal today…” Rose started, crossing her legs. “Do you wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) started. “I got in a fight with Ben in the hallway. He pushed me, so I pushed him back, so he pushed me harder and I just got upset and punched him…”

“Jeez, (Y/N)… What are you? A animal?” Rose scoffed. “You’re a lady. You don’t hit people. And you especially don’t under the eyes of the Lord. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

“I was just defending myself! He’s picked on me before!” (Y/N) defended.

“So? You go to the principal’s office and report it.” Rose retorted.

“But Ma, they don’t listen to me. They don’t like our family.” (Y/N) spoke. “They think we’re cursed. Or were sinners in another life!”

“That’s nonsense. Everyone loves us. Everyone loves our products. We’re devoted followers of our Lord. How could they not love us?” Rose snapped, not seeming to believe it.

“It’s because we’re freaks, Ma!” (Y/N) exclaimed, hitting her hands on her lap. “We’re major freaks! They constantly talk bad about us! We’re always invited last for our community gatherings! Papa is always getting mandatory overtime but no payment, yet everyone else doesn’t have that overtime! We’re constantly being sneered at in public! The kids at my school harass me, but you don’t care because it doesn’t affect you!”

“(Y/N), you can go to your—“

“Do you know what they say about you, Mama?” (Y/N) questioned, her fists shaking as she spoke. “They think you’re a selfish, narcissistic, and hypocritical woman. They think you sold your soul to the devil to inherit your parents’ wealth.”

“Who?” Rose gasped, her jaw dropped.

“Everyone.” (Y/N) hissed. “They think Papa’s a freak because they don’t understand him. They don’t know what he’s going through. They think I’m a freak because I’m your daughter!”

“Well, you know what? I’ve had enough of you. You’ve been acting like a freak lately!” Rose spoke, standing up from her seat. “What’s with you? Is it that college? Is that college stressin’ you out with your studies? I told you that the city isn’t for you but you never listen to me! Is it your father’s stupid paranoid delusions? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Don’t listen to him!”

“He knows more than you do!” (Y/N) shouted. “And that college is the only thing in my life that will keep me away from you!”

“Go to your room, now! Go straight to bed! Don’t even expect supper tonight!” Rose shouted back, her voice louder—it was always louder compared to hers.

(Y/N) had no problem with that, it’s not like that wasn’t her first time being forced to skip a meal. Besides, there's nothing too great about pre-packaged meals. Rose rarely cooks, and Frank is either always working in the auto shop or on the farm. It's been that way since she was a kid, so school lunches were basically a miracle for her when she entered school. Breakfast and lunch five days a week? That's better than no meals every day of the week! Or at least one every other day.

She quickly took her backpack with her and walked to her room, resisting the urge to slam the door shut. She shut her door (gently) and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower faucet and stripping off her school uniform. She sat down on the shower floor, feeling more tears well up in her eyes.

“This fucking sucks…” she gritted through her teeth.

She sat there for some time, before finally getting up and washing up. She dried herself off, before picking out some pajamas and changing into them.

She walked back to her room and sat down on her bed for a while. She was tired after today’s events, all that crying and puking and yelling really got to her. She should at least drink some water, but right now she really couldn’t be bothered.

There was a knock on her door, before the door opened.

“Hey, kid. You doin’ okay?” Frank questioned, popping his head into the room.

“No… not really…” (Y/N) sighed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he questioned.

(Y/N) took a moment to think, before nodding. “Yeah. I think so.”

Frank walked into the room, sitting down on the bed. He sat down on the edge, waiting patiently for (Y/N) to talk.

“I-I just feel so out of place…” (Y/N) sighed. “I mean, I don’t even know what I do but they hate me, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know I’m not the most prettiest or—“

“Hey, stop that.” Frank spoke up. “Don’t beat yourself up like that. You’re one of the prettiest girls out there, and that’s not just cause you’re my daughter.” Frank explained. “You’re a (L/N). We (L/N)’s may have shit luck, but you know what? We always get back up. And we know what’s true and what’s not.”

“You don’t have to be pretty to be liked. You don’t have to be anything for people to like you. It’ll come naturally over time as you meet some great people.” Frank explained. “Problem isn’t you, it’s society. You shouldn’t have to change yourself to fit societal norms, and you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over it either. We just live in a shitty town with shitty people; but that doesn’t define society as a whole. There’s still good out there.”

“You know what they say: everythin' happens for a reason. Right now, you’re just waitin' for your moment to shine, and when you shine; you’ll be a damn star.” Frank smiled, patting her back.

“Thank you, Papa.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Now, is there anything else making you upset?” Frank questioned.

(Y/N) took a second to think about it. Everything he’s been saying was right; it’s not that she’s bad, it’s that the people in her town are so close-minded, judging people because they don’t match their beliefs or act a little different from others.

“Would you be upset if I left the farm?” (Y/N) questioned. “I’ve talked about it before, about getting a scholarship to this really good med school, but would it make you mad that I’d be leaving the farm behind? Leaving you and mama behind?”

“(Y/N), there should never be a time in your life where you have to choose between your happiness and someone else’s.” Frank spoke. “You should always choose yourself first.”

“But wouldn’t that just be that selfish?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Are you kiddin'? You’re leavin' behind thousands, maybe even millions, of dollars this farm gained over the generations!” Frank laughed. “That’s pretty selfless if you ask me.”

“Ah, you know what I mean, Papa.” (Y/N) chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Think of it this way. You’re goin' to wake up to yourself, you’re goin' to shower with yourself, you’re goin' to eat meals with yourself, you’re goin' to go to work with yourself, take spa days, go shoppin', run errands, and go back to sleep in the same bed—all with yourself. Everyone else in life comes and goes; coworkers, friends, lovers, even me.” Frank explained. “Put yourself first because it’s your life. There should never be a period in your time where you feel the need to sacrifice your happiness. If you’re not happy, you’re not livin'; you’re existin'. It’s plain and simple. It's only selfish if you're in a position to help someone in need, but you don't help them despite bein' stable to."

“I… guess you’re right, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling.

“But if you plan to have kids, then you’re gonna have to make sacrifices. You can’t just make some kids and expect that to be over, there’s a lot more than just that.” Frank chuckled. “But hey, that’s a whole other story for when you’re older. Don’t you dare be tryin' to get pregnant at your age.”

“I won’t, Papa. I promise.” (Y/N) giggled, shaking her head at her father’s antics.

She surprisingly felt a lot better now. Life didn’t feel so bad anymore, who knew a little speech was all she needed to feel better.

But in realty, it was really just her father sacrificing his positive energy to give to her. He may not be the ideal father, and he may not remember everything he does or remain in control of himself sometimes, but she knew this was her father Frank—not the monster or the sinner her town thought he was.

“I heard your mom isn’t letting you eat dinner, I can sneak some in here?” Frank suggested.

“Nah, I’m really not that hungry.” (Y/N) shook her head.

I might just throw it up anyways… she thought.

“Just making sure.” Frank chuckled. “Oh, hey. You wouldn’t happen to know where that hole in the face came from, would you?”

“What hole?” (Y/N) inquired.

“While I was harvestin' those blueberries your mom told me to fetch, I noticed a square hole in the fence, at the bottom of the fencin'. It looks like some wire pliers or somethin'.” Frank spoke. “I told your damn mom we should invest in some sturdier fencin', but she’s so persistent in wantin' that cheap fencin' that we can easily move out of the way in case we expand the farm more.” He sighed.

“No, I wasn’t aware there was a hole in the fence.” (Y/N) spoke honestly, surprised.

“Ah, must be someone tryna deal my damn chickens. Nobody is takin' Charlotte from me.” Frank huffed, crossing his arms.

Charlotte was practically Frank’s pet hen. Charlotte was born in domestically at her farm, she was smaller than the other chicks and had a white fluffy spot on her back. Charlotte has some serious attitude for something that’s easy to fry up.

“I’ll just go to town and replace the fencin' tomorrow. I don’t want any damn coyotes or foxes trying to get ‘em.” Frank sighed, before standing up from the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for talking with me, Papa. I needed it.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Hey, it’s the least I can do.” Frank smiled, before ruffling her hair, causing her to giggle.

“Night, sport. Just remember, I’m proud of you no matter what you do in life.” Frank smiled, opening her bedroom door.

(Y/N) smiled at the reassurance. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love ya too, (Y/N).” He smiled. “Get some rest now.” He spoke, before closing the door behind him.

(Y/N) crawled under her covers and smiled, glad to have talked about her feelings. She didn’t feel as alone as she did earlier.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the cicadas outside, and the snapping twigs of a bunny or raccoon nearby her window.

.

(Y/N) woke up feeling a bit more happier and relaxed than usual. She at least woke up in a good mood, the effects of last night's talk still lingering with her as she stood up. She did a small stretch to get her blood pumping, before walking over to her drawers to find clothes for herself. She opened up her drawers to grab a pair of socks for today, before feeling something weird.

What is that?

She pulled out a paper folded in fours, but her heart dropped when she saw red splotches on the piece. She quickly folded open the paper, reading the contents.

"My love, how utterly divine you are. I've taken care of that nuisance for you, are you proud of me? I couldn't stand how he touches you, how he wishes to harm you, when a beauty like you should be absolutely adored. He won't be a problem for you anymore, nobody will ever be a problem to you. You're like an angel, and all I wish to do is protect you from the evil in this world. I want to serve you and be your faithful prophet, your only follower. You saved me, let me save you now. See you soon, my love."

It was printed sugar paper with typed letters printed on it, and dried blood spots on the paper. That wasn't in her drawer last night, someone broke into her house.

It felt like she stopped breathing, a ringing inside her ears as her head felt fuzzy. She dropped the bloodied paper, taking a few shaky steps, before running to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet.

You would think she'd have nothing in her stomach to throw up, but you'd be wrong. Whenever she gets scared, a nauseating feeling takes over and she can't help but empty her stomach.

She coughed and wiped her mouth with toilet paper, taking another piece of toilet paper and wiping the snot and tears off her face.

Who the hell could've sent her that note? Who the hell broke into her house and planted that?

Another thought stuck her. Just how long have they been watching her? What else is planted in her house?

That thought pushed her up off the ground, scurrying back to her bedroom. She tore her bedroom apart, searching every nook and cranny. She even went as far as to check every single clothing item she owned. She found a small microphone inside one of her ceiling light bulbs; no wonder the room looked brighter, her soft yellow lights were replaced with white LED's and she didn't even realize it! She even dismantled a part of her alarm clock, finding a small camera there. And she found another small camera in the eye of one of her old collector dolls that sat perched on her shelf.

After another trip to the bathroom to puke, she did a quick sweep around her bathroom, finding another microphone in her bathroom lightbulb and a camera inside the shower head; hence resulting in her throwing up again. She grabbed all the cameras and lightbulbs, placing them in a large ziplock bag for evidence, before placing the note in a separate ziplock bag.

(Y/N) sat on her bed for a moment, trying to wrack her brain on why this was happening. Why her? What this a nightmare? Who the hell would choose (Y/N) to stalk? It must be a sick joke, right? Nobody would write her a love confession, that's never happened in her life! She's close to nobody except Annabelle and Lola, and they would never do this! Kate hates her, and Ben's most likely still pissed off at her for punching him. There's nobody else in her life who's been around her recently except...

She grabbed her hair, tugging the ends to cope with the sick realization. It was Ren. That stupid, creepy brat with the stupid, creepy brown eyes that just bore right into her all the time. He's in her church, watching her every move like a hawk. He coincidentally transfers into her class a few months ago. He coincidentally steps in and saves her from Ben yesterday. It has to be him, there's nobody else!

Her throat was sore and burning, her eyes were exhausted and tired from crying, and she felt like she was about to tip over and faint. She opened her bedroom door, stumbling out into the hallway. Her father sat on the couch watching a baking show, while her mother sat reading a book on her loveseat. (Y/N) dragged herself into the living room, placing the ziplock bags onto the center table for them to speak.

"Papa. Mama. We need to call the police. Someone's watching me..."

.

The police were called down to the farm, talking to a clueless mother and father as they tried to gather evidence. The only evidence that could be found was the ziplock bags (Y/N) provided them. There were no signs of breaking in, but (Y/N) knew that was because of their own faults. They lived in a small, religious town, so everyone knew each other. They would've never expected anyone to break into their house, so it was common for people to leave their doors unlocked in their town. During the police investigation, they found a body inside the pig enclosure, the pigs feasting on the body of Ben Rivers. (Y/N) was immediately placed in custody and taken down to the police station to be questioned.

She refused to talk without a lawyer, but there weren't many lawyers inside of her small town, and her trial date was approaching rapidly. (Y/N) was being trialed for the possibility of first degree murder alongside tampering evidence, and (Y/N) was trying to file charges against Ren for stalking, trespassing, first degree murder, and frame up.

It took weeks for their small town court to final accept their case and get court hearings done. The word got around quick around town. If she felt isolated beforehand, well she certainly felt so now. As luck would have her, Ren was popular in school and in town. He actively attended and volunteered in church, he had stellar grades, and a perfect social image.

That's the only damn thing he has against her, a good social image. It's so unfair. Why is she punished for what others do? She didn't choose to be Frank's daughter, she didn't choose to be next inheritor of Rose's family farm.

Please, as if that was a good excuse, a part of it is her fault too. She was the one that tried killing herself. She was the one that sang the quietest during the church's hymens. She was the one that never bothered to stand out and do extracurricular activities like Annabelle and Lola do. By isolating herself, she's practically doomed herself in this case.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to play with her thumbs as she sat in front of the judge. She wore a white blouse with a black blazer, wearing a pencil skirt and black tights with black flats. Rose said that it would show she's sophisticated and respected, but (Y/N) felt like she was wearing the outfit to her own funeral.

She practically avoided Ren's eyes the whole session, not wanting to see what stupid "innocent" face he'll have on that damn face of his to sway the whole court. He sat in one of the seats behind her, just feeling everyone's eyes (including his) on her sent shivers down her spine. She was currently being tried for first degree murder and tampering with the evidence, but (Y/N) knows that's not true.

Surely they'll believe her, there were literally cameras and microphones in her room! There's practically nobody else that'll do this to her!

"With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of first-degree murder."

Her heart practically dropped at that. How could this happen?

"With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of tampering and trying to rid the body of Ben Rivers."

She tried to open her mouth to speak, but it felt like no words were going to come out. If she kept her mouth open any longer, she might just cry instead.

"(Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years, with no chance of parole." The judge decided. "Is there anything you wish to say, Ms. (L/N)?"

"How could you turn your back against justice?" she questioned, her bottom lip trembling. "I'm innocent. He framedme! Tell me how those cameras got into my house! How those microphones appeared!"

"According to receipts on a shopping site, you spent nearly $300 dollars purchasing two cameras and two lightbulb microphones, and had them shipped to a public park. It was purchased under your name and debit card."

(Y/N)'s face paled, her hands shaking. No, she didn't do that. Ren must've stolen it. He must've framed her!

"Around that same time, Ben Rivers, the man you killed, also happened to lose his wallet that was reported to have at least $300 in his words." The judge explained, reading a paper in their hands. "It was also during that time that you fought Mr. Rivers at your public high school, which provoked the murder. With this evidence, you not only premeditated the murder by buying the technology and trying to get rid of the body, but also tried framing the murder itself."

"B-but the note? Where did that come from?" (Y/N) questioned.

"There was no forensic evidence on the letter except for your finger oils, and the dried blood of Ben Rivers. The note was typed so you could hide your handwriting." The judge explained.

"No, no! It was typed! Anyone could've typed that! Ren could've typed that!" (Y/N) tried to fight. "Please, this was a targeted attack! Ben was murdered! Mine and my family's lives are in danger! This didn't just happen out of the blue, it was planned by someone that wasn't me! It was Ren, it has to be!"

"With the evidence of online receipts found under your name and debit card, the forensic evidence of your finger oils after you supposedly found the note in your clothing drawer, the finding of Ben Rivers body in your family farm, the previously shown hostility you've shown against Ben Rivers in the past; it is with undeniable evidence that you are guilty of murdering and hiding the body of Ben Rivers." The judge spoke. "With all this said, (Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years in prison, no parole. Along with this sentencing, I hereby give the verdict that Ren Itami is not guilty of first-degree murder, of trespassing, of stalking, and of tampering with evidence."

"What?! No! That needs another trial! You can't do that!" (Y/N) exclaimed.

"Court dismissed!" the judge shouted, their voice echoing throughout the courtroom.

(Y/N) sat limp, staring at the table she was seated at.

It's all over. She thought, her vision blurring with tears as her ears rang.

She could make out her father yelling in the background of the ringing, but she didn't have the energy to look.

My life is over. She thought as the judicial security forced her up out of her seat, taking her away from her family.

She stood up, tripping over her feet as security forced her away. She was able to tilt her head to look at her parents, watching as Rose covered her face with her hands; either she was crying, or she was embarrassed. Frank was standing and animated, his hands moving all around as his mouth ran, but (Y/N) couldn't hear what he was saying.

(Y/N) forced her eyes to look around the courtroom. Most people didn't even seem shocked or surprised that it was "supposedly" her who killed Ben Rivers. A few emotional people cried, others filing out of the courtroom. She saw Annabelle and Lola here with their families, the girls' expressions looking betrayed and in disbelief.

She saw the family of Ben Rivers there. His little siblings sobbed, and his mother covered her mouth as she cried. The father was trying to comfort Ben's mother, but his eyes stared at her with nothing but hatred.

No, don't look at me that way. She thought. I didn't do it. I didn't!

He just needs some guidance. They all just need some guidance to know it wasn't her. It wasn't her!

She finally saw the man that put her in this position, her eyes meeting his bright brown ones. His black hair covered his eyes, but she knew damn well he was looking at her. His disgusting, blood-soaked hands were patting the shoulder of one of Ben's siblings.

No! Don't let him touch them, Ms. Rivers. She thought. Don't let him kill your other children too, Mr. Rivers!

She was led through door, before the security slammed the court door shut, leading her down a hallway where a police car awaited to take her to prison.

.

One week here, and she could barely get out of bed. She was taken to the town's small prison. There weren't toomany people here, so she was able to get her own cell. At least she wouldn't be sharing a cell with a freak.

Oh, who is she kidding? She'd be the freak they'd be cellmates with.

She stared at the food on the ground, not wanting anything to do with it. It's not even that it looked unappetizing, it's that she had absolutely no strength to eat.

Her life was over, everything she looked forward to in her future no longer existed. She was going to get out of this town, run away from the farm's responsibilities and inheritance, find a place that could accept her no matter who her family was, go to college, become a pediatric nurse and help other kids like her and more. Somewhere in that future, she could even get a chance at a happy relationship.

But that's over now. Nobody is going to love her now. Nobody is going to accept her now. When she gets out of jail, she'll be at least almost 40. How is somebody going to accept a convicted murderer, whether they did it or not? Who is really going to believe her? Jobs will turn her down, she'll be lucky to even score a job at a fast food joint.

It's all over now, so she might as well just die. Starve herself away. Or, at the very least, she'll try to the best of her abilities. Sooner or later, the guards will take her to the medical-treatment room, and they'll force a tube down her nose or mouth and feed her some crappy nutritional supplement whether she wants it or not. After that, she'll go to her cell, and she'll stick her finger down her throat and force all of that disgusting crap out of her body, speeding up her dehydrating process and just finally die. The only reason she's been drinking water is because it hurts to breathe without a moist throat. At least after a while, the starvation slowly stops to hurt, but dehydration just feels worse in her opinion.

There was a bang on her cell's bars but (Y/N) couldn't bother to look over, staring at the ceiling as she rested on her bed.

"Hey, (L/N). You got a visitor!" the guard spoke, though she really couldn't care.

She didn't bother responding to them, staying in the same spot as she refused to talk.

"If you don't get up, we'll just bring them here." The guard persisted, though (Y/N) remained uncaring.

She heard the guard's footsteps fade away, at least ten minutes going by as she listened to other inmates talking and screaming, some banging on their cells angrily.

Can't you fools tell it's pointless? (Y/N) thought.

She wondered how many others were here innocently. This whole damn situation, being in jail, nobody believing her; she was almost convinced that she was a sleeper agent. Or at least, she was guilty but couldn't remember. Why else would people not listen to her?

Footsteps echoed down the hallways, before they stopped in front of her cell. She mentally rolled her eyes, not having the energy to do so in person.

"Hello, (Y/N)." A voice spoke, almost smugly as they stood at her cell. "Did you miss me?"

(Y/N) immediately scrambled up from her spot, getting dizzy and falling on the ground for a few seconds, but she forced her way up off the ground and ran to the prison bars.

"Y-" she tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse.

She quickly ran to her table and grabbed a water bottle, practically chugging the whole thing before wiping her mouth. She ran back to the cell's bars, staring at them.

"Y-you son of a bitch!" she shouted, her voice raspy as she forced her hands through the bars and grabbed the collar of their shirt, slamming them up against the bars. "How dare you show your face to me? I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

"My, how hostile. I'm just doing you a favor too!" he laughed.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Ren? What are you doing here?!" she shouted. "Was it not enough? Was ruining my life not enough for you?!"

"Calm down, my love. I'm not looking to harm you, honestly this all was my mistake." Ren laughed.

My love? My love? As in, the nickname that bloodied confession letter said?

So it was Ren. (Y/N) thought, almost sickeningly gleeful despite all the damage he's caused to her.

At least she knows she's not completely crazy.

"Fuck you and your mistakes." She hissed, her grip tightening on his collar. "I'll never forgive you for this."

"So feisty." Ren smiled. "I'm actually bailing you out. Shouldn't you be glad?"

"Bailing... me out?" she questioned, confused. "Why did you even get me in here in the first place?! Do you understand how damaged my reputation is now?!"

"Oh, please. It's not like it was good to begin with." He chuckled, causing her to glare at him. "I didn't mean for you to be held accountable for murder. Really, it was an honest mistake. I was just trying to cover my tracks, I didn't mean for that pesky body to have you end up in jail. It's a shame a pest like him is still causing you problems even after he's dead."

"Why didn't you just admit to the murder? Why did you have to involve me into it?" she questioned.

"Well, if I was in jail, I wouldn't be able to see you anymore, silly!" he laughed, his hands reaching out and holding her wrists as she held his collar. "You have such soft, delicate hands. An angel like you shouldn't be trapped in a nasty cage such as this."

"It wouldn't be so soft and delicate when I bash your head into the wall!" she hissed, ignoring his angel comment as she ripped her hands away from him, a new wave of anger hitting her as he had the audacity to touch her after everything he's done.

"Well now, I had to make sure you learned your lesson. I was originally going to let you have a month here in prison—but ah, but I couldn't stay separated from you for that long." He sighed longingly. "I figured a week must be enough for you to learn your lesson! I'm glad I came sooner though, it looks like you've been starving yourself!"

I would rather stay a month here and starve than after to see you. She thought, annoyed.

"You've learned your lesson, right?" he questioned.

"Die sooner?" she spoke sarcastically.

"I do love your humor dear, but now is not the time." He smiled.

"What? Not to cross you or some crap?" she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Bingo! Aren't you so smart?" he cooed, his hands holding the cell bars as she backed up from him.

"Fuck off. I might as well just rot away here. My life is over now." She hissed, turning her head away from him.

"Oh, no. See, it doesn't work like that!" he smiled. "Whether you like it or not love, you're still being bailed out! So, you can either come with me, or live in the streets! Aren't I a better option?"

I'd rather be the next Oscar the Grouch than go anywhere he's going. (Y/N) thought to herself.

"So? What will it be?" Ren questioned.

"I want to be bailed out." (Y/N) responded. "And I want food."

"Sure, that can be done." Ren smiled. "Just as long as you promise one thing?"

"What is it?" she questioned, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Graduation is near. As soon as we graduate, I want you to come live with me and become my wife. We'll move out of state and have our own family! Unless you want to wait for kids, we can do that too." Ren smiled, as if the idea wasn't crazy.

"Excuse me?" she questioned.

"Yeah, kids are a bit too soon, huh?" Ren nodded, as if agreeing with an idea she didn't even say.

"I said excuse me! Not even a first date or something?" she spoke, shocked.

Well, she shouldn't expect much class from the guy that put cameras and microphones inside her bathroom and bedroom.

"On the way home we'll grab that lunch I promised you. Consider it a lunch date." He smiled.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes, before eventually agreeing. "Okay..." she nodded. "If you bail me out and get me lunch, I'll be your wife..." she spoke, her legs shaky at just the thought of actually agreeing to this ridiculous request.

It can't be that bad, right? It's better than 20 years in prison, right?

"Oh, good! I was worried I'd have to bail you out and kidnap you on the streets! That would be quite the hassle to try and hide you!" Ren laughed giddily. "I'll be right back! I'll go pay and have the guards unlock the cell for you! I even brought you an outfit!"

"Great..." (Y/N) muttered, not even bothering to force a smile.

(Y/N) looked around her cell for anything she wanted to take, but there was nothing that wasn't hers. She watched as the prison guard opened the door for her, a hateful glare on his face.

Understandably so, he's under the impression that she's a murderer of a teenage boy, and now she's being paid out of jail. No wonder he would stare at her in disgust, even if the true killer was the one standing right next to him.

(Y/N) stepped out of the cell, being handed a bag from Ren.

"There's some private bathrooms here, we can find one for you to change in." Ren explained.

(Y/N) nodded, silent as she followed Ren. They found a bathroom for her to change into, much to (Y/N)'s relief as she doesn't want to change inside of a cramped car with her stalker. Ren opened the door for her, about to walk in with her before she stopped him.

"Excuse me? No. I can change by myself." (Y/N) scoffed, stopping him with her arm.

"Hm? Why?" he questioned. "It's not like I haven't not seen any part of your body."

"Don't remind me, creep." (Y/N) hissed, a shiver running up her spine as he reminded her of the cameras. "You stay out! I'll just change really quick!"

"Fine, whatever you want." Ren sighed, disheartened.

(Y/N) closed the door behind her, triple-checking to make sure it was locked. She opened the bag that Ren gave her, mentally groaning at the outfit he chose.

She put on the outfit reluctantly, before grabbing the brush he left in the bag for her. She brushed out her hair, looking at herself in the mirror. She wore a white mid-thigh length sundress that Ren gave her, with strawberry patterns printed on the cloth, and frilly off-shoulder sleeves. She put on white flats that he left in the bag for her, and she refused to wear the questionable lace panties and matching bra. The outfit was cute, but she didn't like knowing it was something her stalker got for her. She'll probably throw the dress away in the trash later.

She walked out of the bathroom, looking at Ren.

"Ah, look at you! You look adorable!" Ren cooed. "Spin for me."

"No." (Y/N) stated firmly, a flash of annoyance crossing her face at his audacity.

"Maybe next time." He laughed, before leading her to an office area.

He signed her out, and (Y/N) shortly received her personal items they held onto. She had the outfit she came to the prison with, along with her phone. She checked her phone's battery, seeing it was at 0%. The battery must've slowly been draining while she was held here.

"Ready to go, my love?" he questioned, holding his hand out for her.

"Die." She snapped, walking past him.

How could he act like this? How could he act like he did nothing wrong after he broke into her house and placed cameras and microphones into her private living space? How could he have the audacity to make her take his fall, then bail her out and tell she must've learned her lesson.

Of course she's learned. She's learned that she's going to get as far away from him as possible, no matter what. It doesn't matter when, one day, she'll escape him. Like hell she'll be his wife.

Ren laughed at her hostility, making a comment about "how cute she is when she's upset." He was acting as if he was dealing with a fussy toddler.

Ren guided her to his car, causing her to halt and rethink her decisions. She was going to be alone in an enclosed space with a man, a man who has done nothing but destroy her life. Ren looked at her expectantly, refusing to get in the car until she does first.

He's making sure he can quickly catch her if she tries to run from him.

(Y/N) sighed, before hesitantly opening the car door and getting in, closing the door. She tested the door handle to see if it'd open, but it was child-locked, she realized. If she wanted out of the car, Ren would have to unlock the doors and walk around to open the door for her.

Damn it, he's smart.

(Y/N) frowned, watching as Ren hopped inside of the driver seat. He turned the car on and smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak, before she interrupted him.

"Food." She spoke, buckling her seatbelt for safety (even if she would rather be in a car accident instead of hanging out with her stalker).

Before he could question where or what, she added on.

"Steak. Go to a steakhouse." She ordered, crossing her arms.

"You seem to know what you want." He chuckled, smiling.

"I haven't eaten in a week. Now drive." She snapped.

"Whatever you want." Ren hummed, pulling out of the parking lot and driving.

She looked around Ren's car, not noticing anything out of the ordinary except for the man himself.

"So, what do you see in me?" she questioned.

"Excuse me?" he questioned.

"ExCuSe Me." She mocked, let out a scoff of disbelief. "You heard me, jackass. You stalked me. You killed Ben. Why?"

"Let's save that for our wedding vows, yeah?" Ren smiled. "Don't worry. You won't have to wait long."

(Y/N) looked over at him nervously, before letting out a defeated sigh, instead focusing her attention outside of the window to avoid his predatory gaze.

.

Just like he promised, he returned her back home after paying for lunch. He requested for her to keep him bailing her out as a secret, to which she hesitantly agreed.

(Y/N) returned to her family's farm, rushing inside and hugging her father and mother. She made up a stupid lie saying that her good behavior let her get released, though they probably knew that wasn't the truth; however, they certainly didn't care if it was the truth or not.

Everything might've seemed resolved now, but that was far from the case. The news of (Y/N) being convicted and released made the news and headlines. It was (Y/N)'s first day of school and she sat in the bathrooms during lunch, hiding away from the rest of the world in the stall.

Annabelle and Lola are no longer her friends. "We can't be friends with a murderer, whether you say you did it or not, the evidence leads to you." they told her. There wasn't a Ben to try and push her in the hallways, or to try and trip her in biology class. Mr. Jones couldn't even come up with a dry comment to say to her.

It seemed like everyone was busy taking pictures or recording her. There were pictures of her mugshot taped onto her locker, and newspapers with the highlighted words "murderer" taped on it too. There were posts on social media questioning why she was back and how they could let a murderer escape.

She would rather be known as a freak than a murderer any day.

And the worst part? People sympathized with Ren. They were whispering about how sorry they were that he had to see the girl who "tried" to accuse him of killing Ben and stalking (Y/N).

It hurt losing her best friends from middle school. It hurt losing her social image, even if it wasn't much. It hurt being an accused murderer. It hurt hearing the rumors that her family's wealth and connections to the Devil is how she got out of prison.

It hurt being known, but not known at the same time.

She constantly looked at the posts the media had of her. She didn't know how to feel; angry, sad, disappointed, afraid? People are just making assumptions of what they heard and know, they don't know that Ren is the real murderer tormenting her. They don't know anything.

People whispered in the hallways and classes about her.

"I heard that she tried framing Ren because he rejected her confession."

"I heard she was the killer all along. I mean, who gets a love letter placed in their drawers and doesn't know about it? Sounds pretty suspicious."

"She got bailed out because of her mommy's money. She can't even accept responsibility for her own crimes."

"She sure looks like a killer, all quiet and creepy. I didn't even know who she was until now."

Even if Ben's bullying stopped, Kate's didn't. She only got more physical. What used to be verbally assaults was replaced with milk spilt on her head and cigarette burns on her scarred arms.

When will it be enough? She questioned the universe.

Never.

But the worst part? God, the worst part must be that bastard's face. (Y/N) constantly checked her room everyday to make sure there were no cameras or light bulbs, so Ren gave up trying to install more. Even though he stopped his 24/7 supervision of her, he constantly visited her at night, keeping her up by knocking at her window until she opened it so that he could talk her ear off about how pretty she was, and how excited he was to be her husband, and how close graduation was coming until he'd take her away from here.

He kept writing his stupid confession letters to her, about how much of an "angel" she was, and how utterly divine her beauty was. He used sugar paper to write on, and he used a dark red ink pen to write with. It was like he was taunting her by choosing red, reminding her of the spilt blood that stained the first confession he gave her. It was like he was reminding her that nobody believes her, that in everyone else's eyes she killed Ben.

She would grab the letters and burn them on her father's grill outside. It didn't matter trying to prove herself with the letters, nobody would believe her anyways. All she cared about was tearing the papers, stomping them on the ground and burning them into embers that flew in the air. Even burnt paper was more free than her. She wanted to destroy the evidence of Ren in her life. She wanted to destroy his love for her, but he just wouldn't give up.

Even her own mother believed she was a murderer. Rose told her one day while doing the dishes that she should be ashamed of herself, and that she should've at least tried blaming the murder on someone who was more less known and a weirdo. Rose couldn't dare think that Ren did such a thing, not when Ren was such a respectful boy who attended church and participated in volunteer work. At least her father believed her, but it felt like he always had to remind her what happened, to never go outside alone, to never leave the farm. She wasn't even sure if her father actually believed her, or if he was mixing his persecutory delusions when he experienced episodes into (Y/N)'s life. It drove her mad, she felt her already poor mental health deteriorating into something worse.

The church kicked out her entire family from ever stepping foot on the premises. Not only was she isolated from her hometown, friends, and society; but not even church would wash away the "sins" she committed.

Her grades were slipping. Her studies were failing. Her sanity was dropping.

Everything just looked like a weapon for her to use against herself or another.

Why should she eat food? Why should she drink water? Why should she take a shower? Why should she live?

One week before graduation. One week before Ren would whisk her away from this hell of a town, and give her a new hell as his wife.

She was admitted into the hospital for a stomach pump and to sew up her wrists after having another failed suicide attempt. It's been a couple years since she last tried to kill herself, but after all the events that happened, it only seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. She had tried overdosing on pills and cutting deep into her wrists so she could bleed out, but her father came home from work early. He made it a habit to always checked up on her after work, so when he saw her unconscious on the ground with blood on her arms and empty pill bottles around her body, he grabbed Rose and made her apply a towel and pressure to (Y/N)'s wrists while he sped through town to get her to the ER. She made it out alive, much to her dismay.

She sucked at living. She sucked at trying to find happiness. She sucked at trying to die. Wasn't there anything she was good at except being a punching bag?

The hospital made her take multiple tests during her time there. She had to answer a lot of paper tests asking about her health, and she had to take tests involving her nervous system. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, exactly what her father has and is why he's shunned from society. She was also diagnosed with manic depression as a follow-up for her bipolar disorder.

It clicked in her head then and there. She'll never be fine. She'll never escape these emotions. She'll always be a freak, and the daughter of a freak. She'll always be the daughter codependent on mommy's money. The realization made her sob, try to suffocate herself with her pillow. She was placed under suicide watch inside the hospital, and she was kept for three days, when the doctors finally decided to let her go.

As always, word got around in school, and more rumors spread. The constant whispers, the constant feeling of eyes watching her, they were all looking at her, they were all watching her just like Ren. It was too much.

Why was she being punished for simply just existing? Even when she tries to take her life, they still look down on her.

She had her scholarship to her dream med school denied after the newspaper headlines made way to them. They sent an email about how they couldn't accept a mentally ill scholar to care for others in need. All the other colleges she applied for wouldn't accept her either.

Everything was taken from her now. She had absolutely nothing to look forward to now. How can you possibly live if you have nothing to live for?

Ren was knocking at her window again tonight. Tomorrow was graduation, tomorrow was going to be her final day free from him.

Go away. She pleaded. Please, just leave me alone.

After one too many knocks on her window, she finally walked over to the window, ripping it open and jumping out the window, tackling him and pulling down to the ground. She got up on top of him and started punching his face.

"Fuck you, Ren! Fuck you! You ruined my future! You ruined my life!" she cried, her fists hitting anything on his face, before it hurt too much to punch him anymore.

When her fists stop hitting him, he looked up at her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"My love, I'm so proud of you for communicating your feelings with me." He cooed, his hands moving up and holding her shaking hands.

"I want to die. I want to die." She cried, her figure shaking as tears dropped on his bloodied face.

"So that's where these scars came from..." Ren muttered, running his fingers along her stitches. "My love, why must you cut your wings? If you cut too deep, you'll lose your ability to fly!"

"I don't wanna fly. I just want to die." She spoke through tears.

"I never wanted you to waste a drop of your blood. I only want mine to spill..." he spoke, his fingers going from her arms to her thighs, trying to soothe her, but the feeling only made her feel worse.

"Don't touch me! I'll kill you!" she shouted.

It’d be such an honor dying by your hands. To feel your skin on mine. Please, tell me how you’ll kill me? Will it be slow or long? Use me as you wish and dispose of me!” he laughed, taunting her as he fed into her fantasies, as if the idea was actually entertaining to him.

No. She doesn't want to kill him. She doesn't want to touch him if he'll just enjoy it and act like a masochistic freak. She just wants him to disappear from her life.

"Please, please just let me go. Please just let me die. I can't. I can't do this." (Y/N) begged. "Just let me go. Please."

"I'm sorry, but you're mine, angel. I can't live without you." He frowned. "Finders keepers."

(Y/N) cried, slapping his hands off her thighs. She stood up off his bleeding figure, climbing back into her bedroom window.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, my love!" he smiled, blood leaking out of his mouth.

She ignored his words, shutting her window and locking it. She walked to her bathroom and washed her hands off in the sink, before crawling into her bed and crying herself to sleep.

.

It was graduation day, but she felt anything but excited. It's not like a high school diploma would fix everything in her life.

However, depending on how she plays this out, she just might be able to escape this.

She received her diploma on stage, with little to nobody except her parents clapping (Ren was in line, but he wasn't going to clap for the girl who "tried to frame him for murder"). She quickly exited the stage, sneaking out of the ceremony and running out to the parking lot. She hopped into her car and drove away.

For weeks she's planned this out. She sold her phone and laptop in case there was any tracking malware installed by Ren, buying a new phone and laptop. She gave her parents her phone number and told them not to give her number to absolutely anyone. She checked all over her car, inside and outside, looking at every nook and cranny inside the engine and outside for any airtags or tracking devices. She packed up all her clothes and important essentials, putting them in luggage and shoving it into her car. She closed all her old bank accounts and opened new ones now that she was 18, bank accounts her family or nobody else could access, transferring all her money into said accounts. She only had a few hundred bucks, and she refuses to stoop so low as to ask her parents for money (she does not want to be indebted to Rose). She said her goodbyes to her parents this morning, knowing she won't see them after the graduation. She even found Ren's car in the parking lot before the ceremony and slashed all his tires so he couldn't drive after her.

She didn't know where she was driving, but she was driving away from her hometown, from her family, and from Ren. She'll find a new home, and she'll learn to be happy there. She'll live inside of her car until then, and she'll search for a job until she can eventually save up money for a place.

Weeks went by as she drove in and out states, looking for a place to settle. She slept on the side of the roads, and picked up cheap food from any gas station or fast food joint she could find. She would use free wi-fi from those fast food joints or public places, and she would take showers in the public showers of trucker gas stations (she would wear socks during her showers though, like hell she'll contract ringworm or any other fungi).

Living homeless was uncomfortable and downright scary, but she felt it was better than being Ren's wife.

A month into her escape, she received a sketchy email from a supposed learning institution. The supposedly email basically summed up to them being notified that you were looking for a med school, but because of your recent arrest charges, you can't get into any schools. The institution is offering to accept her into their school under any medical degree and skill due to the fact their school doesn't accept discrimination of any kind.

It was extremely sketchy, it even had a poster of a doctor recommending euthanasia for suicidal people (honestly she could use that).

But it was something? If she actually got a degree from these guys, then she could really get her life back on track! Get a job! Become a pediatric nurse! She could actually make something out of herself and be happy on her own!

She responded back to the email, surprised to see the email reply not even ten minutes later. The email came with a short "thank you", followed by an address a few states away. (Y/N) gathered her items and walked out of the dining establishment, hopping into her car and putting on a GPS to follow the address.

This was her future, wherever it will lead her, it must at least be better than Ren.

.

(Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner.

(Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by.

She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't.

(Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips.

What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!

She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew.

(Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.

"Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"

"Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."

"To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair.

Hello, my stars! I know Andrew didn't show up in this like, at all, but don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad.

Chapter 7 is done! Phew! This was probably the fastest I've ever written a chapter for you guys. I've just had a lot of free time this week and I felt really motivated to do this chapter, so I'm glad it's out! Chapter 8 has most of its outline work done, so now it's just the matter of getting to write it! The series is starting to wrap up, but I think it probably won't end until chapter 10-12 (no promises though).

I also know that Andrew wasn't (was barely) in this chapter. I wanted to do a chapter of (Y/N)'s backstory, but I didn't expect it to get so long... I just didn't want to half-ass it. It was better separating the chapters after all though!

Don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad. Thank you all for reading!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, final chapter.

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