Darker Than Love | ꪜ

Darker Than Love | 3

Michelle's POV

Lifting the duvet off of me, lazily I took it upon myself to slowly roll onto my side. What I wasn't anticipating was that I rolled too close to the edge which ultimately resulted in me landing on the floor with a loud crushing thud. The pain I usually felt every time I fell off the bed didn't hurt anymore because today I was numb as shit.

I rolled onto my stomach effortlessly then propped myself up on my hands and lazily dragged my numb body towards the bathroom, being momentarily mortified by my zombified reflection in the mirror.

Well aren't you a piece of work Michelle.

I ran my hands through my sticky matted hair and let my soggy tongue stick out of my mouth, just taking in the absolute horror before me. "I look like a mess." I grumbled groggily to myself.

Ten more minutes of me wallowing in my own despair, I finally took the time to slip out of my nightgown, disposing of it into the hamper and slipping into the shower.

As the cold water rolled down my body, my mind stumbled into thoughts that plagued me last night, preventing me from sleeping and depriving me of my good nights rest. Thoughts imprisoned my mind such as; did this juvenile delinquent kill someone? Did he commit a felony or something? Why is he being sent here, of all places?!

I don't know how to feel about him being in this house, in the room right down the hall opposite mine. The thought makes my skin crawl but there's only one way to find out.

I hopped out of the shower and took my time brushing my teeth until it was squeaking against my fingertips. We're supposed to go pick him up with the rest of the students who have assigned delinquents, it sounds so wrong saying it like this but in reality, this is what they are ...delinquents.

I slipped on a black pair of jeans and a red polo t shirt with a pair of black vans. Today I put less effort in my looks since I have no one to impress and most definitely not a delinquent. If anything I should be wearing a hazmat suit.

I stumbled down the stairs, navigating my way towards the kitchen where dad sat on a white stool drinking a cup of hot coffee whiles my mother prepared breakfast. "Morning," I greeted softly as I snuggled into my mother's warm body.

"Morning, sweetheart." Taking her eyes off the pancakes, she turned towards me, smiling widely before averting eye contact and attending to the pancakes before it burnt. "I'm upset with you," I grumbled as I unwrapped my hands from her waist and propped myself up onto the stool beside my father.

"Why?" She asked distractingly, still flipping the pancake in the pan.

"Because we didn't tell her we were making Mason come here today." My father mumbled gruffly as he sipped his coffee dramatically, warily staring at me before averting his attention towards his newspaper and flipping onto a next page.

Mason?

So that's the criminals name, it even sounds like a criminals name or am I just being way too dramatic.

No most definitely sounds like one.

"Oh sweetheart we're just trying to help the kid out. And his parents are my past associates so I felt guilty after I heard what happened to them. So I contacted them and offered to have him stay here after I found out he was being transferred through the program. So be nice to him." My father explained and I sneered.