The Boy Next Door

Chapter 3

"The Boy Next Door"
The car pulled up right behind the moving van, and the engine shut off. A lady opened up the door of the drivers seat and stepped out. Then two teenagers, a girl, who stepped out from the back seat, and looked to be about two years younger than me. And a boy, who looked to be about my age with sandy blonde hair, and chocolate brown eyes. He was tall, and very attractive, and had the cutest little smile. The boy looked at me, and waved slightly. I didn't realize I'd been staring at him for so long, I felt my face turn a rosy shade of red, and I quickly looked away. Grabbing my keys to let myself in, I heard the boy, talking to me? What the hell? I quickly turned around to see him running towards me. "Some stuff dropped out of your bag, miss" he spoke, he had a thick English accent. I look down to see that there was a hole in my grocery bag, and food was falling right out of it. The boy picked up the falling stuff and handed it to me. "My names Thomas, Thomas Sangster, and you are?" I could feel myself blushing, stop blushing! I just met him! "I-I'm Paige Johnson" I stammered. "Well Paige, it was nice meeting ya!" He smiled, and turned around and walked towards his family once more. A huge smile spread across my face. Snap out of it! I tell myself, you only know his name, nothing else! Besides, he probably has a girlfriend with those good looks of his. I turn back to the front door, unlock it, and quietly step inside my house.

*

My dad was still asleep when I got inside the house. I put the groceries on the counter and started to put them away. Afterwards, I got a glass of lemonade and started making my way toward my bedroom, when I heard my dad groan. I froze in my tracks and looked over at him to see that he was now sitting up, hand on his head. "Dad" I whispered to him. "How are you feeling?" He stood up, and looked into my eyes. "You went to the store, eh?" He spoke, with an edge in his voice. "Y-yeah I did" I stuttered, I was started to get afraid. "Did you buy me more beer?" I looked down, because I didn't. "Look at me!" He screamed, I jumped back in fear and looked at him. "Did you or did you not, buy me fucking beer?!" His face was red now, his eyes with that same madness in them. "No, I'm sorry! I forgot I-" He came after me, knocked the glass out of my hand, and knocked me onto the floor. "Whenever you go to the store, you buy me some fucking beer you little shit! Do you understand me?!" I nod yes, tears filled my eyes and my vision blurred. He kicked me, then turned and walked back into the living room. I scramble back onto my feet, and run up the stairs to my bedroom and lock my door.

*

I run over to my bed and start to sob. I was sobbing loudly, but I didn't give a crap if someone heard or not. I was done, done with this sick game people call life, so done! My dad hit me twice, no make that three times if you count the kick. I thought he loved me, but I guess he doesn't, not anymore at least. I will never be loved, because who would love a broken girl like me? I got up from my bed and headed for my desk dresser. I pulled out a blade, and put it on my wrist, and started cutting. The blade dancing across my skin and blood dripped off my wrist and onto the floor. After 3 slits, I went into my bathroom and pressed a wet towel over my wrist to stop the bleeding. I was still crying, tears dripped onto my shirt. I took a tissue and wiped my face, turning off the bathroom light, and headed for my bed again. I stopped mid-walk, when I saw that Thomas's bedroom, was right across from mine! I hurried over to my bed and grabbed a book, pretending to read it. What I was really doing, was watching him. He was looking into a mirror that he had just put up in his room. Fuck, he is so hot,  I thought to myself. In the reflection of his mirror, I could see myself, staring at him. I quickly looked away and pretended to read my book. Luckily, he didn't notice my staring, he turned towards his door, and walked out of his bedroom. "Why am I even bothering" I mumble to myself. All boys are just low life and abusive, like my dad. But at the same time, I was beginning to think, that's not the case for Thomas Sangster.