Fatal

Chapter 1

I stared blankly out the window as the city lights flew by in a blur, the night lulling me to sleep like the soothing sound of waves crashing on the shore. I sighed tiredly, unable to quiet the buzz of my thoughts as they flew around in my head at a million miles per second. I finally gave up on trying to enjoy the quiet and took out my iPod, fishing my earbuds from my bag and plugging them in. I scrolled through my music slowly before I found a song. Tapping the play button, I locked my iPod again and turned the volume up, closing my eyes as The Curse by Out Came The Wolves began to play.

I went to my photos as Equal Measures by the Milestones began to play. I went to my album titled 'Family, not Friends' and tapped on the first picture. I smiled at the picture of my friend Jake with me on his back, running around our local tattoo shop before he got his first tattoo. We were always being stupid and doing crazy and weird things together. It's what I loved about him. He was my rock and always knew when I was down even if I had a smile on my face and no one else could see through it.

I swiped on to the next picture and laughed softly to myself. I stared at the picture of me and the silver and pink haired weirdos I am happy to call my best friends. The picture was of Rachel, Paige, and myself. We were all at Sephora getting more makeup. The day flashed through my head making me smile even more. We had been to a concert the night before and were still really hyped up from it. We had went and seen my favorite band, Motionless In White for my early birthday and it was amazing. I had gotten to meet the band and it was the best night ever. I could still remember the night perfectly. I had been kind of freaked out because when the band asked my name, they all looked at Ghost then at me. After that, Ghost kept staring at me.

I looked down at my outfit and shook my head with a soft smile, realizing it was the same outfit I wore to the concert that night but slightly different. I was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with rips down the front and a long sleeved Motionless In White shirt, a choker, and a pair of plain black combat boots with a few leather and spiked bracelets. Right now, I had on my more fancy combat boots with buckles and chains on them, a choker/collar, leather and spiked bracelets, black ripped skinny jeans, a black tank top, and an oversized black pullover hoodie since it was pretty chilly outside. My hair for the concert had just been my natural ginger color but recently I got the bottom half bleached to blonde and kept the top half my ginger color. I also cut it this morning how I wanted it and was proud with the outcome for my first time cutting my own hair and doing it like this.

If you can't tell, I'm a bit on the dark side. Once I was old enough to start dressing myself, I started drifting towards the darker colors. My mom had immediately noticed and that was where her resentment towards me began. As I got older, I discovered music that I enjoyed and art and certain styles I liked. My choices made her dislike me even more. My mom and I are the same but opposite. I have her looks 100% but my style is the polar opposite from hers. While she is a respectable, well dressed, well mannered, and rather liked woman in the upper class community, I am the opposite.

Being the daughter of a woman such as herself, I never fit into the crowd I was raised in. I attended the best schooling until this year when I was to start University but things changed. My mom always tolerates me and my style, choosing to ignore me for it. That was up until a couple of months ago when I came home with a nose and lip ring. She didn't like that at all. She tried forcing me to take them out until she realized I would just get them again. She then went back to completely ignoring me until a couple of days ago when she came to my room to talk to me.

She walked into my room that day, not bothering to knock. I had been sitting at my desk drawing when she barged in. I immediately closed my sketch book and got up to face her. She had this unreadable look on her face for a moment as she stared at me. I had a feeling something bad was going on. "Hayden, your dad and I have been talking and we both believe it is best you go and live with him in America." She had said. I had felt so betrayed and lost and confused. She had never once spoken of my father. I hadn't even known they had been taking. It was in that moment that my life was flipped around and I was forced to pack my things and was put on a plane to Dallas, Texas.

Although I was pretty excited to be going to America for the first time, I was also scared and nervous. As I mentioned, I have never met or even seen my dad. He's never been around. All I knew was he was in a band when he was 17 and he and my mom met when his band came to London. They hooked up and 9 months later I was born. My mom used to be a groupie I guess you could say. Once she was 18, her parents snapped at her and she changed into what she is today. Meanwhile, her hatred for my style and taste in music grew as I got older. The way my grandparents treated her reflected on how she treated me. As bad as it was, I don't blame her. I do love her. After all, she is my mom.