Sent Away

❸Delinquents?

（＾∇＾）Daniella t(-.-t)

I hadn't realized that Mrs.Chrissy had already gotten out of the car. Hell, I didn't realize she took the liberty of taking my bags, of which I don't have much of, and brought them inside while I just sat here in a daze!

Awkwardly unbuckling my seat belt and messing up quite a few times, I hastily got out of the car and looked at Mrs.Chrissy. Worry, hope, and slight sadness had shown through the stern look she wore.

A silence passed over us before she turned around and slowly made her way into the house and through the open door where I could peek into where my bags were, by the door.

"Thank you," it was slightly above a whisper and I don't know what brought me to say it. I can't be polite, I have to be rude and ungrateful, I have to get out of here before I cause problems.

I shouldn't of said it. I shouldn't of said anything. This place, I have to get out of here. I can't go back to my old life. If I do I'll destroy everything again, everything is already broken. I might as well turn the remains into rubble and ash.

"Welcome to your summer home!" A cheery masculine voice called out once I stepped foot into the home.

The man seemed to be the same age as Mrs.Chrissy, and I'm guessing they're in their mid to late forties. He has short greying dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm guessing he's Mr.Jonas. His smile is wide and he has a faint tan.

I tried not to react. I tried to be kind. I'm trying not to go back. No, I don't care, they're just being nice. I can't trust them. I can't trust anyone, but James and my father.

I gave Mr.Jonas a nod and looked away.

Delinquent! Are you listening? They don't want you here, they're only being nice. Hear that delinquent?

My head started spinning a little bit. My mind was telling me things I didn't want to hear, things I already knew, words I didn't want to hear anymore.

I noticed Mr.Jonas's large smile faltered a bit and he cleared his throat, " I suppose you're tired from your trip."

"Let me show you to your room," Mrs.Chrissy continued for him and began to lead me up the stairs, while I trailed on behind her with my backpack and duffle bag.

The carpeted stairs looked so clean, so at the bottom of the staircase I removed my shoes even though I wasn't told to. The carpet is a light brown color and the doors and banister is white, while the walls varied in color.

Upon reaching the second floor we turned left, ignoring the living room/family room were the stairs led us to, and at the end of the hall was "my" room. It probably is just a guest bedroom, but I didn't comment.

Mrs.Chrissy opened the door to the room and I was exposed to the vibrant red walls. There are paint splatters on the walls and plain navy blue bed sheets on the large queen sized bed. There's also a random door on the side opposite of the window on the left wall. A black desk, nightstand, and dresser decorated the room. There was also a full body mirror hanging behind the door, which I spotted when we entered the room.

The closet is in the corner of the room, but since the room is probably and awesome guest room I won't be using it, not that I brought that many clothes that I'd need to put it in the closet.

Mrs.Chrissy looked pleased with herself when she looked at me, "You can go ahead and unpack your clothes in the dresser and that's your bathroom," she pointed to the random door, "If you need anything feel free to ask, this is your summer home after all."

I nodded slightly again and she closed the door behind her.

My summer home? This is their house, it isn't my home. My own house where I live isn't even my home. I guess the only time I feel at home is when I'm with James, he's my home. He's were my heart is. Oh gosh I already miss that little rascal.

I miss his toothy smile with missing teeth, the way he stutters, his hazel eyes and light brown hair. My baby brother whom I practically raised as my own kid at the age of twelve because our mother couldn't do it herself and our dad works too hard.

After hearing a sob I stopped thinking about James and listened for who was crying, but then I realized it was me. The warm salty tears trailed down my cheeks and down my neck or dripped onto my green tank top, which I still haven't changed out of. My hair's a mess and I could feel the familiar aching pain in my chest.

I did this to myself. Why? How could I of been so stupid?

More silent tears came. I don't usually cry. I'm not weak, but right now I feel so vulnerable.

I heard a knock at my door and I sucked in all my urges to cry and went into the bathroom. My eyes weren't red, but they were slightly puffy, like the usual things that happens when I cry. I finished off my face and gurgled water so it wouldn't look as if I were crying and wiped my face on a clean towel behind me. After taking off my jacket and putting it on the little hanging rack thing on the back of the bathroom door I stepped into the guest room.

I would of froze like a deer in headlights, but that's not me anymore, that was me. I just walked passed the godly figure of a man and plopped into the large queen sized bed.

His image replayed in my mind. His back was to me and he was shirtless. I could see his back muscles and I'd bet he had a six or eight pack. His chocolate brown hair was tousled and a sexy mess.

"Hey!" His masculine voice shouted at me in a rather attractive way, but I wouldn't like him. I know guys like him. I've dated guys like him. The type of guys that get you to do things you'll regret and ruin you.

However one thought stuck out to me: who is he?