e d i t i n g | • »»» • extended summary inside • «««
BOOK TWO IS ALSO IN THIS BUT IT IS DISCONTINUED!
Alexis Cassidy Baxter. Commonly known as Alex. Football; comfort; determined.
Jayden Bryce. Commonly known as Jay. Soccer; "bad boy" (not really...
"Trusting is the first step of anything and everything." ✨
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I didn't know how my life went wrong. I didn't know how it all came crashing down.
And you know what actually sucked? I couldn't even blame it all on Alyssa. I couldn't blame it all on the brat. I only had myself to blame. I had made everyone's lives I knew a burden. If only I hadn't come to this stupid place. If only I was just there. If only I just ignored Uncle Leo's offer. If only...
I was going back to my old ways that I thought I'd give up sooner or later. I wished and thought it would be the former, but now I knew it was the latter. Change wasn't exactly my forte, I'd admit it.
I really fucking hated Aron Grey, Alyssa Mathews, Callum Grey, James Anderson and everyone that put me down. Although I knew it was wrong, and that the situation wasn't in their hands, I couldn't help but also hate my mum and my dad a small bit for leaving me in alone in the world when I was in such a weak and feeble situation of instability.
God, how much I missed my mum. We weren't close, sure, but damn we did have a great time together. We didn't agree on many things, yet somehow we had an amazing mother and daughter bond. I really just missed the way she'd hug me after work, and how she'd know exactly how to cheer me up after a rough day at school or practice. I just missed her presence.
What I would fucking do just to see her, touch her for a last time. To hug her and apologise endlessly for he brattiness I may have shown at some time during the time in her life. I mean, she did out up with me, for Christ's sake.
The love for my mum wasn't on the surface. Why? Because although I loved her, it didn't mean I agreed with her choice of kicking my dad out. But I still loved her. But, life is short. She didn't go to her checkups, which meant we didn't know how long she had. I didn't get to utter a small sorry.
Imagine waking up, walking to your mum's room on a Sunday, and there was only two to three hours before your game started. You open the door and see your mum asleep. Well, asleep at first glance.
When you walk over to her, rest your head on her ribcage, near her heart - only to not feel a rhythmic beat, not feeling the vibrations in her chest. No heart rate to level with your own, having a fucking race. No beats so you can hum the small tune of a song that matches the rhythm. Nothing.
It was one of the many memories that haunted me in my nightmares that had faded with time. At one point, I had gone to the doctors because of Andy, but I refused to take the fucking pills.
I got better. I didn't need those shitty things. I found my two feet, and I balanced my ground. I made it. I overcame it. People got dreams of their mothers, imagined how their lives would be with a certain someone. It was fine.
Until, coming here just made me aware I was needing closure. I needed to know what happened. I had to be able to forgive my mother for the things -
