Waiting For Love

Chapter 6

{Skye's POV}
I sensed him staring at me from behind the counter. Then, it happened. He happened.

"Excuse me, miss." His voice went right through me. I quickly turned around to see him staring at me with a dorky smile.

I looked him in the eyes, and spoke as soon as my mind comprehended what he had said.

"You, uh, you can call me Skye."

"I'm Dalton. I just stopped you because I wanted to let you know that you are breathtakingly beautiful, Skye. Sometimes, girls don't hear it enough, and you deserve to know." Just as he spoke, I felt anger and bitterness stirring up inside me. Was this some kind of joke? His dorky smile shown upon his face yet again. Except this time, it seemed a bit more genuine.

I forced a small smile upon my face, knowing what he said must have been a lie. Mr. Popular would never want a girl like me. He would never want to be part of my psychotic life.

I turned around, and thanked him. I let my 'Thank you' fade, as I walked out of Taco Bell.

My life was full of awkward.

I hopped on my bike, and petaled away. All the way to my place of living. I would love to call it a home, but it is the farthest thing from a home. Home is a place where you're comfortable, and living in color. My life was dull, and everything was gray, especially when I was there.

I never feel like I belong.

Just as I got to my place of stay, or my raggedy house in this case, I went to the backyard and sat on the tire swing as I slowly downed my tacos and bottle of water I had in my bag.

Even from outside, with the sound of the tire swing making noises, I can hear them screaming and the television blaring. It killed me to see them like this. I wanted real parents. Parents that cared about me, rather than the alcohol and heroine they idolize.

Slowly, I made my way into the house. What I didn't know, was that they were sitting in the living room bickering. My father was drunk, and my mother was higher than a kite. Just as they saw me, they approached me. I didn't have the time to run before they attacked me. I just sat and didn't resist. Hit after hit, kick after kick. A swig of gin between each strike. I felt blood pouring from my mouth and nose, but I couldn't move.

I heard them yelling at me, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. My vision got hazy, and my ears began ringing. The pain I felt was unbearable. Just as I was regaining consciousness, everything went dark. My vision was impaired, as was my hearing; all my senses were lost.

I was laying lifeless on my living room floor, consumed by thoughts.