The Bipolar Girl + The Bad Boy + The Baby Project = ?

Chapter Uno:

{Angelo Miguel on the side >} CHAPTER ONE: 

      Staring up at the beautiful golden sun rise, my thoughts wondered to death. I wonder what happens to a person who has died. Do they go to Hell or Heaven, if they exist, or do they just rot away six feet under? I guess I'll never know that answer until I see for myself. 

      Its weird though, knowing someone ever since you were born and then in one second they disappear of the face of the earth. Their heart stops beating, their eyes close and their just gone. Never to return. Your left to face the world without them by your side. The pain, for some, heals with time but for others its always there, always at the front of their mind, they try but they can never move on, some even end their own life whilst trying. 

      "Delilah! Are you up?" Mum's loud voice came from downstairs. 

      "Yeah" I replied, getting up from the old chair. 

      I tried to fight it, I really did. Every single morning I tried fighting with it but I know its a lost cause. I can feel the familiar feeling of loneliness settling in the pit of my stomach but the problem is I don't want anyone here. I want to be alone.

      Being bipolar is like being two people - person number one wants to talk to someone other than my mum but then person number two, who rules most of my body and mind, wants to sometimes just be quiet and moody and sometimes be really energetic, wanting to scream, laugh. Its hard work keeping up. 

      Running my hand through my brown locks, I dragged myself to the bathroom where I had a shower and brushed my teeth. With a white towel wrapped tightly around my body, I walked over to the mirror, in my bedroom, and studied myself. My eyes were droopy, from crying, with dark rings around them indicating the fact that I hadn't slept in a while, my skin looked deathly pale. 

      Rolling my eyes at myself, I slowly put on my clothes and shoes; a loose fitting pastel pink knitted top with blue skinny jeans and leopard print flats. I left my hair like it was; messy and loose. Who can be bothered to style it at seven thirty in the morning? Well, unless I'm in my 'high' mood, not me. 

      "Morning" Mum grinned, on the outside she seems happy but when you really look at her you can see the sadness, heck I can hear it; she cries every single night for my dad. "What do you want for breakfast?" 

      "Not hungry" I mumbled, sitting on the stool. 

      "You have to eat Delilah" Mum's concerned voice shook me out of my sleepy state. 

      "I said I'm not hungry Mum, I don't want anything to eat" I snapped, regretting it right after I said it but its just people - they make me so irritated, it's like something inside me snaps and I can't do anything about it. That's why I'm better of alone, that way I won't hurt anyone and they won't hurt me. 

      "Okay baby" I moved my gaze upwards a little to see my Mum biting her bottom lip, making herself breakfast which consisted of toast and a cup of tea. 

      Who the hell makes their own mother cry? 

      Banging my head on the wooden table, I tried to get that voice out of my head, the voice that puts me down every single day. The voice that always ends up controlling me.

      "I'm gonna go now" I sighed, standing up. "Love you" sending a small smile over to my Mum, I began walking out. 

      "Love you too and don't get into trouble" 

      As I walked onto the pavement, my movements slowed down. I can't be bothered to do anything. I mean, what's the point? What's the point in living? Were all going to die one day so why not today? Life's just full of pain. That's all there is to it, no one will miss me, well maybe my mum will but she'll move on.