Self Hatred

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Chapter 5

~~Jason~~

The distant sound of laughter and crackling wood pops behind the shed.

It’s mostly dark, but her fire red hair sticks out like a sore thumb among the natural beauty of the forest.

Tall, deep trees loom and branches break under the feet of critters and wild animals.

The only thing that lurks deep and dark in the forest in the middle of the night are beasts.

I fit right in as I back Daphne up against the rough bark of a huge tree.

She squats down and unzips my pants.

I hate her fucking hair. Wild and red, while usually hot as fuck, are too much tonight.

Brandon and I have been smoking blunts all day, ready for the weekend, ready to chill and relax and enjoy no long runs to Colorado for pick up or drop off.

Because of this, I’m more faded than the bland, overcast sky tonight.

Normally I like to get my dick sucked while gazing at the stars, but sometimes, in the pacific southwest, that’s not possible.

Tonight’s one of those nights where haze clouds not just my head but the sky, too.

“Get hard for me, baby...” Daph drawls.

I’ll hand it to her, she can turn it up and, normally, turn me on, but not lately.

Not since I’ve been seeing a certain brown-haired crybaby a little more often than I’d like.

Not since my best friend has been trying to dick down her best friend.

Not since Brandon moved across the street from the one person who I can’t fucking stand to look at.

Hailey Dawson is fucking everywhere, and I hate it.

She’s at school and in my classes.

She’s at the playground almost anytime I’m there.

She’s in the background of the phone when Tara calls Brandon.


Sometimes, at night, when I’m outside on his porch smoking, I can see her through her cheap curtains as she washes dishes or folds laundry.

She doesn’t sleep normal hours, but who the fuck does on this side of the tracks.

Occasionally, she’ll pause mid-cleaning and stare off.

I know she can’t see me since her curtains are drawn and I can only see her outline and shadow, but it makes me want to stub out my cigarette or roach and fucking leave.

She’s always been able to see right through me, so I figure a dirty old curtain isn’t a huge protection.

Some nights, when B passes out on the couch, I find myself on his stoop staring at her fucking house, reminded of the vast difference between who she was at 7 and who she is at 17.

Our friendship ended so long ago that it doesn’t even feel like it was ever real.


One night over summer when Brandon first moved in with his mom, I was sitting on his step stoned as fuck.

The front door of the house across the street flew open and some girl sprinted like mare in a race.

There was commotion all fucking night, yelling, doors slamming, screams, but down here no one bats an eye.

It’s background music, white noise.

Plus, I was so fucked up I didn’t know which house it was coming from.

I knew she lived around here, but I didn’t know the exact house until that night.

I followed her to the playground and watched from the alley as she fell to her knees on the mulch and heaved for an hour.

Alright, maybe not an hour, but a long fucking time.

Her brown hair swirled in the wind and when it started raining, she didn’t turn around to go home like I did.

She climbed into the covered tunnel in the jungle gym.

I never saw he face, but I knew it was her.

Even in my fucked up state, I could feel the electricity and anxiety radiating from her.


“Mmm, that’s it...” Daph moans as she tugs on my shaft.

I look down at Daphne as she takes the head of my dick in her mouth and wets it with her tongue.

I know it’ll be stained red from that fucking lipstick she wears.

“You like when I...” I cut her off by taking either side of her head in my hands and shoving my dick as far down her throat as I could go.

My dick pulses thinking about fucking anyone else’s mouth, but Daph understands.

She doesn’t expect a lot.

When I’m pent up and my balls are tight, I call her over to fuck.

When her older stepbrother tries to fuck with her, she calls me over.

It’s an understanding most people don’t get or know, but it’s an understanding none the less.

I think back to a few weeks ago when she let me fuck her and her cousin at the same time hoping the memory will help me bust.

Daph chokes down my length and I guide her hand to the rest of my shaft she can’t fit in her mouth.

I like it rough and she’s always more than willing, so I keep her head still and give it to her.

I can’t be this fucked up guy with anyone else but her.

When I close my eyes, memories of her short cousin bouncing on my cock filter through my brain, strengthening the hard on Daph swallows.

I pull out of her throat and slap my dick on her chin.

“Fuck, Jason...” She gasped, spit running down her neck. “You have the biggest cock I’ve ever seen...” It pisses me off that my balls tighten when she says it.

I grit my teeth at my thoughts.

I’m a sick fuck.

No one deserves this.

Why am I like this?′ Is the thought that always goes through my head.

I grew up in a normal, loving family, until I didn’t.

Memories of that summer wash in like a wave, and I grab the back of Daphne’s head to numb the feeling.

Her throat opens as I shove her down my length throat first.

The more I fuck her face, the tighter my balls get, and I squeeze my eyes to get the wild red out of my sight and focus on the drag of her dry lips on my shaft.

I have to work hard, and it pisses me off.

Never before has shooting my load been an issue, and maybe it’s time to hang Daph up to dry.

The thought of breaking things off with her makes my dick pulse, so I grip her tangled hair and growl.

“Swallow it...” I grunted, fucking her mouth, stilling silently as I empty my balls into her throat.

Daphne’s wet eyes and satisfied grin greet me as I come back down.

It wasn’t the best cum of my life, but it’ll suffice until I can find someone to replace her.

I help her up and she straightens her low cut top.

Daphne has never once asked me to reciprocate, and I don’t even think I would if she asked.

I know, I’m a fucking monster.

I’ve seen her pussy.

I’ve fucked her pussy.

But I’ve never tasted her pussy.

“Thanks...” I said, walking back to the party.

“You okay?” She asked.

“Fine...” I said.

It’s an easy, go to response that means ′no but I don’t want to talk about it’.

Daphne is a good lay and that’s all.

She’s not my friend.

I’m not hers.

We know this about each other.

She helps me and I help her.

It’s a business transaction.


The closer we get to the fence, the tighter the rope pulls in the pit of my stomach.

I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

I help Daphne through the fence wishing I could disappear behind the trees, find my way in the darkness, stumble home through the meadow, but I can’t and I won’t.

Last time I came home faded, my dad took my car for 2 weeks.

Fucker.

Daph throws her arm around my waste and I place mine around her shoulders.

Bystanders think we’re a thing, a couple, but we’re just a couple of fucked up kids.

The thought of telling Daph we’re through crosses my mind for half a second before it goes away.

Not tonight.

I stop by the cooler and pull out a bottle of beer.

Brandon’s mom’s the nicest lady, but she’s also a drunk who dances at the Hi Liter Club 4 days a week.

She keeps the fridge stocked with bottled beer for her, her suitors, and her son’s friends.

She cooks dinner 5 nights a week, leaves money for pizza anytime B wants, and cry-apologizes once a month, when she’s on a bender, for leaving him for the last 4 years.

No one would know, but Brandon lived a pretty fucked life until he moved back in with his mom.

Brandon nods as he brings a glass pipe to his lips and inhales.

He’s seen his mom drunk too many times to ever want to do it himself, but it doesn’t stop him from smoking more weed than anyone I’ve ever met, popping molly, or snorting a line or 2 at a house party.

Daphne stops abruptly and all but hisses.

My gaze follows hers and there, on a turned over milk crate, is Hailey Dawson.

The sigh of irritation that comes out is too audible and I regret it immediately.

Of all the fucking places for her to be, it has to be here.

She taunts me, she plans these rendezvous to make me suffer for all the times I called her names and teased her and fucking made her cry.

Guess it’s only fair.

Hailey’s presence causes reactivity, though, I can’t be me when she’s near.

The hard edged, sharp tongued Jason comes out to play and I just wanted to sit in a chair and melt for the night.

Immediately I’m on edge thinking about what to say to make her uncomfortable enough to leave.

“I thought you took the trash out, B?” I said before thinking.

Why the fuck did I say it? Why the fuck am I like this?′ I thought to myself internally.

Hailey rolled her eyes and crossed her pale arms over her chest.

She’s grown into her chubby belly and chunky thighs.

When she was 12, she was fat.

Now that she’s 17, she’s voluptuous.

She’s no longer the ugly duckling.

Boys in our grade talk extensively about her tits, her ass, and her round face.

I’ll take their word for it because she’s a direction my compass doesn’t point to.

Long hair blows in the wind, clear, bright eyes greet my ornery ones, and, wait, are her nipples hard?

Quit looking, you sick fuck... I just said my compass doesn’t point in her direction...′ I scold myself internally.

But my dick is certainly stirring that way.

I pretend like Daph said something funny so I look down at her and laugh.

Crazy red hair doesn’t blow in the breeze the same as long brown hair, and I don’t even care to look at Daph’s nipples.

I just need a distraction from Hailey’s eyes and my weird half hard on.

I pop a squat next to Brandon, across from Hailey, and watch as Carl feeds her more weed than she’s had before, that I know of.

“What’s he giving her?” I asked Brandon.

Between tokes he forces out. “Dove...” and I nod in understanding.

The valley has some fucked up strands of weed.

Their supplier, a rival of ours, has run dry and started growing with some fucked up fertilizer to mass produce batches quickly.

Carl sells for my supplier.

He and a group of his grease head friends work under me and B, and not very well.

Over the last 4 months, they’ve been short twice, and that shit doesn’t fly in this industry.

They’re leash is so tight they can barely breathe which is why I’m surprised they’re here.

Generally, we don’t mix business and pleasure, not that I’d ever call hanging with these creeps pleasure.

I hate Stokes and his fucked up friends.

Last I saw, Stokes was fucking Bree at a valley party over the summer.

And I mean I literally saw it.

He and his friends like to do that creepy group shit, they call each other The Wolf Pack or something, I don’t know.

Shit’s nasty and if I’m saying that, it must be really fucked up.

Carl Stokes, their ring leader, is better known as Scary Stokes for a reason, nothing good goes on around him.


Over the next hour, Hailey’s laugh screams in my head.

It’s light and bubbly and attracts the attention of Carl and his fuck-head friends, but I want to tear my ears off.

3 and a half beers later, and I can finally feel absolutely nothing.

I’m talking to Brandon quietly about the next shipment and planning runs for the week when Carl leans over and kisses Hailey brazenly.

B watches my lips as I stumble over words, and Daphne scoffs.

I don’t think she’s taken her eyes off of them for a second, could be because Daph and Carl used to fuck until he left her for Bree, but that didn’t turn out so well.

“Boy you really get around, huh Hailey?” Daph sneers to my right.

Hailey doesn’t miss a beat. “Which one is it, Daphne? I’m either a whore or a virgin... I can’t really be both...” Hailey retorted.

“Aren’t you with Tim?” Daphne asked.

“Not that it’s your business, but not anymore...” Hailey said with a roll of her eyes.

Surprise, surprise, Tim’s reputation precedes him.

Girls call him a minute man.

He’s nice enough, and I feel for him.

We thought about bringing him on board, but B took pity and doesn’t want to fuck up any chances of him getting into college on scholarship.

“2 boys in 1 night, though? I don’t even do that...” Daphne lies through her fucking over-lined lips. “Better watch it Carl... Who knows what she has...” Daphne continued her verbal assault.

Hailey stands and wobbles.

I don’t know how many hits she took, but it has her light on her feet.

“I’m going to head out...” She said quietly. “Um...” Her fingers sort of curl around each other lightly, awkwardly, as she turns to Brandon. “Thanks...” She mumbles.

Brandon gives a nod in acknowledgment.

They have some weird fucking connection that I can’t figure out.

Carl follows Hailey around the side of the house, and they disappear into darkness.

Finally, I can swallow the ball in my throat and relax.

“Are you always such a bitch?” B asks Daph, and I can’t help the snort in my throat.

He’s been in a fucking mood since dumping Tara, and my god is it annoying, but this is gold.

“Fuck off, Brandon...” Daph says irritably.

“Least you forget, Red, this is my house...” Brandon never liked Daphne, but he’s never been this openly impatient with her.

He’s questioned my friendship with her, but always accepted the answer for what it was.

Brandon’s either really sick of her shit, befriending Hailey, or in love with Tara.

The latter 2 have me really fucking on edge.

Daphne huffs and turns to me for support but I don’t support her, I fuck her.

Maybe she needs to understand once and for all that my loyalty will always lie with Brandon.

It takes her a good 5 minutes of my silence to realize this, and the only thing I can think of are of the girls around that I can get to suck my dick just as fucking filthy as Daph does.

I heard Ivy does, but she’s got the clap.

Her sister Mell’s a freak, but only sucks cock for drugs.

Carol’s a spitfire but likes to torture her hookups.


After Daphne storms off, it’s just me, B, and the fucktards from the valley.

I toss my bottle in the metal garbage can and stand to grab another from the cooler.

When I turn to pop the top off the bottle, 2 dark figures, illuminated by the moon and streetlamps that splash yellow light onto the ground, are pressed together against the side of the house.

Half my beer is down my throat by the time I see his hand work it’s way into her pants and when her head hits the dirty siding in pleasure, I tear the glass from my lips and toss my bottle at the house.

“Where’s my money?” I ask Chuck, pulling him up by the threads of his shirt.

“Jason, what?” He’s taken back and so am I.

I know he doesn’t have the money. It’s not due until tomorrow after their pickup, but I need the fight.

I need to feel warm blood on my knuckles.

So I lie.

“The fucking money you owe us from last time, Chuck... Where the fuck is it?” I asked through grit teeth.

Chuck does something that surprises me and throws the first punch.

His hand connects with my jaw, but it’s halfhearted and weak.

My laugh is the only sound I hear before I see nothing.

My fists pound flesh and bones and rip open the delicate, thin skin of his face.

I almost feel bad. Almost.

“The fuck?” A voice calls over the commotion and tries to wrestle his friend free.

I do the stupidest thing I can and push him back.

Carl stumbles and falls into Hailey who crashes onto the floor and yelps.

Brandon rushes over and pulls her up.

Everyone freezes.

“You okay, Hailey? Fuck, I’m so sorry...” Carl said, taking her hand and pulling it close to the fire to see.

Blood pours and melts into the orange flames.

Air heaves from my overstimulated, excessively angry lungs.

Why the fuck am I like this?′ I ask myself internally.

Metal permeates and I don’t know if it comes from Chuck or Hailey.

“Call your dad...” B said, picking glass from the cut that’s seeping red.

Shit, it must be bad.

“No...” Hailey started to say but I turn my back towards her.

I can’t even look at her right now.

He answers on the first ring.

"Everything okay, son?" His slightly panicked voice makes me uncomfortable.

He deserves a better kid.

“Someone got hurt as Brandon’s house... Her hand is cut open...” I said as I turned to look at the wound but not her. Never her. I grip her wrist to cut off blood flow and raise it above her heart. “Looks deep... Probably glass inside the cut... Might need stitches...” I explained.

“No...” Hailey said, fighting to pull her wrist away from my grip.

I think I hear her wince, but I know if I give an inch, she’ll run away.

"Try to stop the bleeding by gripping..." My dad tried to explain but I cut him off.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, dad...” I spit into the phone.

He definitely deserves a better kid.

He sighs. "Bring her in... I’ll get a room ready..." He said before hanging up.


Brandon guides her to my car, and I toss my keys to him.

He’s in a much better position to drive than I am.

I’m reminded of my poor decisions all over again.

I don’t stop to think what’s wrong with me again as I climbed into the back seat with Hailey.

Her shock and surprise colors her face.

I don’t have the time or the heart to realize my closeness disturbs her more than my physical aggression.

“Hailey, I’m so sorry...” Carl said through the open window.

He hangs his fingers on the glass window like a dog would its paws.

My annoyance boils over. “Fuck off, Stokes...” I said through grit teeth, leaning over. “And don’t ever bring that kid around again or next time it’ll be him going to the hospital...” I added.

Carl nods in understanding.

Brandon drives the short distance to the hospital, and Hailey breathes shallowly.

I want to tell her to quit being a baby, but her anxiety presents differently than mine and I try remember that.

I drop my hand from her wrist and wordlessly instruct her to use her free hand to take over.

Now that I have nothing to keep me occupied, my thoughts race, and I find my lip between my teeth and the taste of copper-blood on my tongue.

Tonight was a shit show, and I think back to the trigger.

Brandon was smoking a bowl.

Daph was being a cunt.

Carl’s fucking friends were talking quietly, secretly.

I downed a beer in almost 3 gulps.

Carl had Hailey pinned against the house.

Carl had Hailey’s lips on his.

Carl’s hand was inside her pants.

Hailey’s wrist was gripping-

“Hey...” I called suddenly, irrationally angry again. Nothing. “Hey!” I yelled a bit louder this time.

“Huh?” She mumbles.

“Stay awake...” I practically demanded.

“So tired...” She said, laying her head against the window.

“Roll down the window, B...” I said, leaning in to check Hailey’s head.

I’m not sure the extent of her injuries, but she fell on glass and who knows if she hit her head on anything.

My dad’s a doctor, so he’s taught me all safety measures just in case.

“Get off of me...” She fought, pushing me back and away from her.

Her finger goes to roll up the window, but Brandon locked it so she can’t.

Smart dude, always 2 steps ahead.

“I’m not on you...” I said but I pretty much am.

The swell of her curves push into my thighs, and I can smell the skunky weed in her long hair as it whips around us.

At one point, her hair swirls around the back seat and clings to my neck, but I don’t move it.

Hailey’s had long hair since she was a teenager, something she grew out after her mom died.

I can recall all the moments she ran barefoot from her mom, off the porch and into the grass, so her mom wouldn’t braid it.

She was a wild child then and is a wounded child now.

The thought sticks to my mouth like cotton, soaking up every bit of moisture until I’m too uncomfortable to breathe through my nose.

40 miles an hour wind drowns out the gasp from my mouth as I force it open.

I scoot over, giving her the distance we both need.

Our skin peels apart and the electric current stops.

It doesn’t feel good or bad, but I hate to admit that I felt.


At the hospital, dad waits in the empty lobby with an old nurse and a wheel chair.

“Son...” He said accusatory.

It’s my fault.

Last month I told him with the start of school I’d knock my shit off and buckle down but I haven’t yet.

I’m disappointed in me too, but that’s a feeling I’ve grown to accept.

“Hailey?” He said in his next breath.

An exciting turning of events in pop’s boring, small town life.

The daughter he always wanted has returned in worse shape than I left her.

“Hi, Dr. Morgan...” Hailey said quietly, sitting in the wheelchair he gestured toward.

They excuse themselves, and Brandon goes to sit in the uncomfortable wooden waiting chairs.


After half an hour and a cup of coffee later, I’m pacing like an animal in a zoo.

“Dude, chill the fuck out...” Brandon warns. “You’re making me nervous...” He said.

“I’m not nervous...” I tell him, spitting him a glare from the side.

“It’s just a cut on her hand... Probably doesn’t even need stitches...” Brandon said calmingly.

I taste his words until my dad walks through the wide, white doors to the lobby.

I feel guilty, I think.

A rock plummets into my stomach, landing uncomfortably.

I’d feel this way if it happened to anyone, not just Hailey... I’d feel this way if it was Daph, or Brandon, or maybe even Carl...′ I don’t believe my own lie, but I say it over and over and over again.

“9 stitches in her palm... She still had glass in there... Good thing you boys brought her in... She’d have made it worse taking it out herself...” My dad explained but there’s something he’s not saying.

“Is she ready to go?” I asked.

“Not quite... She was rubbing her head and I saw blood... She doesn’t remember hitting it, so I ordered a scan to be sure... Do you have her dad’s number? I called the last number saved on file and...” My dad asked but before he could finish Brandon cut him off.

“Yeah, we’ll call him...” Brandon answered.

My dad nods like he believes Brandon, and he probably does.

We don’t have his number, and even if we did, we wouldn’t call.

I’m not a complete idiot, I do know Hailey’s life hasn’t been the best since her mom died, but whose life is fucking rainbows and glitter?

All these mysterious bruises, scrapes, and cuts on her body can’t all be from her clumsy ass, but I never put more thought into it because the idea that her dad-

“I gotta piss...” Brandon said pulling me from my thoughts.


It’s an hour later and still nothing.

My leg bounces quicker every time someone steps through the lobby doors and it’s not my dad.

“The fuck could be taking them so long?” I whispered to myself, next to a passed-out Brandon.

The tapping of my Vans against linoleum squeaks and wakes up Brandon.

Irritably, he shoulder checks me.

“I need a smoke...” He muttered but neither of us make move to leave.


Another 20 minutes tick by before they arrive.

Hailey’s brown hair, braided down the side, looks damp near her nape, and a sterile white sweatshirt hugs her hips and breasts.

My only options to look at are her bra-less nipples or her eyes, so I choose her eyes.

My dad clears his throat. “Jason, she needs to be back in 14 days to get her stitches out... Can I trust you’ll bring her?” He asked.

“I can ride my bike...” She explained.

“No, you can not... No exercising, no gripping, no trauma at all to that hand or you’ll rip a stitch, Hailey...” My dad scolded her.

“I’ll have Tara bring me after school...” She began.

“I can do it...” I muttered.

“No, really, Tara...” She tried again.

“I said I’ll fucking do it...” I snapped in finality.

“Son...” My dad warns lowly.

I meet his soft gaze and hate him in this moment.

Golden brown eyes warm my icy blues and the chill that slithers down my tired body.

“If it’s easier for… Whomever… I can take the stitches out in my office at home, Hailey...” My dad suggested.

“Okay...” She grumbles quietly.

Brandon offers a hand to Hailey but she doesn’t take it.

I’m not surprised.

When we turn to leave, my dad grabs my arm. “A word?” He asked.

He walks behind the corner and nearest to the door leading to curtained rooms.

“Yeah?” I asked, watching as Brandon and Hailey walk outside.

“You didn’t say she bashed her head, Jason... What happened? That kind of injury...” My dad began but I cut him off.

“I didn’t know she did...” I began before he cut me off.

“What was she even doing with you?” He asked.

I chewed on my tongue and purse my lips.

Good fucking question dad...′ I said internally.

“That girl has been through enough, Jason... Do not involve her in your...” My dad began to scold.

My eyes shoot daggers into his neck.

“I’ll take the princess back to her castle and fucking leave her there...” I made sure to bump into him when I stormed off.

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