To Be Different

Chapter 6.

I spend the whole day crying in my room.
Dad kept knocking on my door, and his baby mama kept trying to console me.

I ignored them.
How could they do this to me?

Dad knew very well how much I wanted my mother.

Why did he meet her?

How could they both give birth to a child that they were not going to love?
How could they do this to me?
My grandparents were still together.
They didn't live them.

They didn't have other kids out of marriage.
Why me?

All this questions were in my mind. I was sad and heartbroken.

And my dad was the one to blame.

At last, around 6 o'clock in the evening the knock on my door became softer and gentle.

"Just go. I don't want to talk to any of you." I say for the thousandth time today.

"It's me!" The voice startles me.

I stop crying to listen. Maybe it was just in my imagination.

Why would he be here?

"It's me Paul." The voice says gently again.

I quickly wipe away my tears.

Paul? In my house? But why?

"I'm not going to open the door." I tell him stubborn.

"Then I'll just stay here until you open it."

I walk to the door, my eyes hurting from all the crying.

My legs were also weak from all the lying down and hunger.

I just remembered I haven't eaten today.

"Why are you here?" I lean on the door.
My breathe heavy.

Why was he wasting his time talking to me?

He could get his friends do his plans! Not me.

"To talk to you." He says bluntly.

I open the door, and close it when he's entered.

"You look messed up." He says, studying me from head to toe.

"Thanks!" I respond sarcastically.

"Seriously, you need a bath before we talk." Paul says.

He didn't ask why I was in a locked room!

He didn't ask why my eyes were swollen. He chose to ignore that.

And it was very embarrassing.

"What do you want..?" I ask.

"I'm serious." He decides to say.

"You're not the one that tells me when to bath Paul." I respond, more embarrassed now.
And yes, I was probably blushing now.

Who the hell did he think was I..?

He chuckles looking around my room like it belonged to him too.

I hate the boy!

And then he spots the bathroom and smirks at me.

"I'm going to count up to five. If you don't go there, I will take you myself."

My eyes pop out.

"1."
Okay. Lol.

"3."

"You skipped 2." I laugh.

"4."

His smirk grows and I clutch my blankets tightly.