Unpredictability of Love

How Random Can I Be?

As I walked back home, the story I would tell Ethan slowly formed in my head.

Maybe I'll add a lot of drama, make the breakup seem hurtful and heart breaking. As I'd said earlier, I was a good liar, I could lie about anything and not get caught, along with that I had an uncanny ability to tell if someone was lying, something which more than once helped me figure things about other people.

There was one problem though, while I was very good at figuring people out, I still didn't know much about myself.

Sure, I knew my favourite music and movies, I knew I loved reading, loved writing and, well, this list could go on forever.

I knew what I loved in the materialistic world, I just didn't know what made Emmaline Wilson, Emmaline Wilson.

Why the fuck are you thinking about yourself?

I don't know.

You just clamed to be smart, act like it. Smart people don't think about themselves.

Nodding to myself, I looked up and focused on walking faster.

Although my house was in a quiet neighbourhood, with old people and cats, the park which was about twenty minutes from home wasn't. It was a pretty dangerous place to in, even the path to the park was dangerous.

The park along with the cafe had been put there almost 20 years, by the old people around my neighbourhood when they were young and had kids who could play there.

Obviously, now that the kids had grown up, the park was now occupied by drug addicts, the very same old people who had built the park there long ago, reliving the memories of their kids who left to live their lives and were too busy to come visit their parents and teenagers who wanted to lose their virginities in the bushes.

Yes I'd actually seen the latter happen, or rather escaped from watching it before I ended up questioning horny teenagers how wise they were to screw in a bush, with leaves, bugs and thorns.

Seriously, there were so many chances of more than a guy's family jewels entering the girl's private part. What with all those inquisitive bugs.

I gagged at my thoughts. Needless to say, I had quite a lot of unneeded ones, which could land me in a mental asylum if spoken aloud.

There were a few people though, people who didn't think I had to take a trip to a psychiatrist for my mental health.

There were only a few people who could deal with the randomness coming out of my mouth- when I let it, that is.

Speaking of randomness, where was I? Right, the way back home.

The road back home was dangerous, but not in a muggers-and-rapists-every-corner way, more like horny-college-dropouts-whistling-at-every-pretty-girl way.

Since I wasn't the prettiest girl out here, that wasn't a problem. Even if someone did try something with me, well, there's a reason I spend more than 3 hours a day learning the best way to punch people, and I was sure that training could be put to good use.

That was also one of the reasons my parents didn't mind me walking around on my own, they knew I was more than capable of giving someone an ass whopping they'd remember their entire life if they tried anything with me.

Just because I could beat an untrained person up, didn't mean I could beat someone in an official boxing match with judges, because unlike what most people think, boxing is a sport which requires technique, skill, strength, agility, endurance and a hell lot of patience. You can't just plunge your fist into you opponent's face and win a proper boxing match, there's lot more to it. Boxing can even be considered a kind of dance, if the two boxers are well-trained and evenly matched. It's an art, something a lot of people never understand, one of them being Aiden, aka, the guy who supposedly broke my heart- at least that's what I told Ethan.