Chipped Black Nail Polish

Disclaimer: I don’t own them okay? The Used owns the song.

Chipped Black Nail Polish
Part Nine: You Need to Go

Well you're never gonna find it
If you're looking for it

I didn’t hear you come in. I didn’t hear two sets of footsteps. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the empty vodka bottle. The second was your eyes. The third was my brother.

And then . . . I saw you. I saw you like you were months ago when you’d yell back and curse and stomp your feet and wear whatever you wanted.

I couldn’t say anything. What was there to say? I stared at you and you stared at me. There was no sound except for ragged, shallow breaths. No one moved.

I knew if I asked you to, that you’d forgive me. I knew I could have your forgiveness.

But I didn’t want it. I wanted you to scream, to hit me, to fight back. Yes, you were you again, but you still weren’t fighting back. Don’t you understand what I did to you? Don’t you know where that bruise on your arm came from? Don’t you know the reason you scream at night is because of me?

I don’t remember when I started crying. I remember you starting toward me and Gerard grabbing your arm and you pulling away. I remember trying to push you away and nearly falling off the chair from the alcohol in my system. I remember that there were still no words and that you were crying just as hard as I was and kissing me through your tears.

Gerard said it, broke the silence. “It wasn’t right.”

I should have said it then, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I wanted you to go. I wanted him to drag you into the bedroom and make you pack up your clothes and leave. That would have made sense.

“You don’t understand, do you?” I heard you ask him, your voice solid. God, I hadn’t heard you talk like that in ages. “You don’t understand because you don’t want to understand. Yeah, it was wrong, but you can fix things.”

“You need to go.” I said, my eyes staring into yours. “He’s right. You need to go. This isn’t going to do you any good. You need to go.”

“I won’t.” you said simply. And then you said the words, accentuating your act of defiance. “You can’t make me.”

“No, I can’t.” I whisper. “But I want you to.”

“I won’t.” you repeat.

And you wiped at my cheeks with your bitten fingernails coated in chipped black nail polish.

---

…