Good Girls are Bad Girls || Luke Hemmings

Chapter 3

Blythe's POV*

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I wake up in the comfort of my warm bed. Rolling over, I check the time on my phone.

10:34 am.

I never sleep in this late, holy. I guess I did wake up last night, interrupted sleep is the worst kind of sleep. Although I did enjoy seeing the boy next door so focused on his guitar, and shirtless. What had gotten into me, my lord.

I get out of bed, stripping off my shirt and the boxer underwear I wear to bed. Standing there in nothing but a bra, I decide to just take it off too. I walk to the closet and grab a new bra, new underwear, and an outfit for the day. Cali has amazing weather, I love getting dressed in the morning for it.

I grab some light wash high wasted shorts and white shirt. Throwing it on my bed, I take the bra and underwear I got and walk out of my room into the open basement air. It's really nice down here for a basement, all beige walls with nice décor. The hardwood floor is cold against my feet as I run naked to the bathroom around the corner. Stepping in, I'm glad to see that this room at least has curtains. I drop the bra and underwear on the ground and grab a towel from the closet.

Setting it down, I tip toe to the shower and turn the water on.

Taking a comb through my long blonde hair so it won't be as tatty when I get out, I then slide the shower door open, stepping inside.

The cold water envelopes me.

Yes, cold.

Ice cold.

Why? Because. Everyone has their deepest thoughts in the shower, yeah? Well that can't happen. I can't have those deep thoughts, because they all involve my mom. When I think about her I get so upset and sick to my stomach, so I use the cold water as a distraction. If I'm freezing cold, I'll be thinking of that. The cold water running over my golden sun painted skin, I'll be freezing, uncomfortable and won't relax enough to get into the deep thought trance.

You'd think I want to remember my moms big genuine smile, and how nicely she treated me. How close we were, how she would always make me feel wanted, she let me be myself and expected nothing more. You'd think I want to remember all of our days spent at the mall, or painting together, baking in the kitchen, watching our favourite shows on television. But I don't. Because as far as I'm concerned, it was fake. It was all fake.

That genuine smile? Yeah. Fake. I always thought my mom was the happiest person in the world, I really did. But when I came home, finding her hanging from the ceiling with a rope around her neck, that's when I realized; it was all an act.

My mom wasn't happy, she was a sad sad woman. She hated the world as much as I do now. She hated the cruel people, the way my other family was so expectant, but she didn't say anything. She was too quiet and timid. My mother wanted out of this world, and the things that hurts the most, is that when she left this world, she took mine with her. She was my world. My best friend, my mom.

And now, she's dead. She's gone. It's like she never even existed, there's no trace of her being at all, nothing left on this earth other than lifeless objects like rings she wore or a few pieces of furniture we keep that she loved.

I see so many kids happy with their parents and I'm truly jealous. My father try's to fix me, turning me into some genius because he knows without my smarts I'm not anything. My moms smile was a lie and I didn't notice it. My brother Justin is constantly against me, teaming up with my dad. It's not even that he's trying to make me a smart prude like my father is, it's almost like he rubs things in my face; my mom being gone, my lack of freedom in my schedule. He's a snarky little bitch if you ask me.