UNSURE (first draft)

soo this is an update, this is the content from my first draft of  Unsure on wattpad but you can read the next part at here.

His heart was beating so fast and that was the moment he knew he shouldn't have continued. The adrenaline rush pumped throughout his body and he was breathing unevenly. This could the death of him. This is what he regretted.

***

"Ayla, you know it's not safe. Please stop. It's unhealthy, for your own sake," mum tried to comfort me. "You know you're bound to get hurt."

"Whatever, mum," I rolled my eyes with dismay. "You know nothing about me so just shut it."

For a moment, she looked appalled. She must be thinking, what did she deserve to be handling a mentally unstable teenager?

I wasn't usually that harsh towards her. But she seems but to be oblivious to the fact that I hate her guts. Why is she still trying to console me?  Daddy must have paid her a lot.

Well, she sure as heck deserved the treatment I'm giving her. To make sure she gets the idea to stay the hell away from me.

She was never there for me, it was always him. He was the one to enlighten my life, making me content while mum was busy getting high at random clubs in the city.

"Ayla, give me a chance," she pleaded. "I'm trying to change for you but it's hard if you constantly try to push me away. I knew I haven't been the best mum in the world. I know it hasn't been easy for you since the death of-"

That was it, she knew he was a sensitive topic for me. I hated her guts.

"Don't you dare say his name," I cut off her speech, giving her a stern look. " And don't you dare call me Ayla, you don't deserve to and never will."

I stormed out of the vast living room surrounded by imported paintings and barged to the streets.

Ayla was what he - only he - used to call me. No one else could call me that.

He was a fighter that saw my vulnerable ways and walls of ego built high. He was a fighter and he defeated my ego.

But now,

He was gone and my walls are built up high as ever.

***

I was late for school. Heck, I always was. Not that it mattered, though. I've always been a top student even before he came into my life and it's been decided that I will stick to the good grades to get as far as I can from this hell hole.

I couldn't care less walking to school. No one had the courage to confront or bully me. Perhaps its because the amount of eyeliner around my eyes.

I didn't want to be the same vulnerable girl I used to be. Certainly, I wanted to be far from the stereotype bitchy rich kid who moped and cried every time confronted with big bad bullies. That's why its better if no one stood in my way.

Daddy had offered once buying me a car, of course I accepted. Duh, those things take a lifetime saving to pay for, that's what I know.

Alas, I'm not giving technology the chance to overcome me. The walk to school was only an 8 minute walk and it gave me a lot of time to ponder of my future.

A wise person once said to live in the moment. Well, my moment sure is full of crap so I'd rather think of a possible bright future with unicorns and rainbow puke, thank you.

I finally reached the gates of school, Harrington High and was handed a detention slip by Mrs Wright herself.

She glared me to death without a word as she's already seen my face frequently than ever.

Detention was another thing. Albeit how pathetic it sounds, it's actually fun rather than having to face mum's whiny face.

She's not even my biological mum. Now I start questioning why I even call her mum. Perhaps because he taught me to.

Just the thought of him makes me sigh and want to punch the wall to death.

After daddy dumped the divorce letters in front of her, she cried her heart out. For all I know was that she was a bimbo with big blue eyes and slept around a lot.

She knew she was homeless and had nothing without daddy, so he agreed to let her stay and take care of me, LOL.

Maybe that's why she's still hanging around although I've been giving her hell at home. That and the fact that daddy pays her a fortune.

To me, she was just a useless bitch who was brought upon pity by her blue annoying eyes.

God, I wish I could just poke her eyeballs out and roast them.

I'm starting to sound a lot like a possible serial killer, I know.

I may sound mentally deranged and unhinged but I guess I am.

I'm constantly fueled by anger that vengeance just consumes my life. Sometimes I feel demented and hellbent on revenge.

Perhaps his death just made me addled. Addled to think no one deserved to give me happiness. I was sure I'd never find that streak of happiness anymore -

Or so I thought.

***