Lunatic

Chapter 11.

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Chapter 11.

"So let's play twenty one questions?" Zayn asked. Twenty one questions? I didn't know what that was.

"What is that?" I asked. He looked at me as if I were smart less.

He looked over the tree to see if everything was still okay. Zayn turned back around and explained, "twenty one questions is where I ask you twenty one questions and you will ask me the same amount of questions back. We would be taking turns asking questions back and forth," I nodded finally understanding.

"Do you care a lot about Hunter?" Zayn began the asking questions game.

I nodded. "Yes. When you get out of here, what are you planning to do?" I asked back.

"Go back home. What about you?" I furrowed my eyebrows. Go back home?

I stopped to think of what to ask back that will remain as a question to his answer. "I actually don't know what I'll be doing when I am released. What do you mean going back home?"

"Back to the United Kingdom, will you forget Hunter when you leave?" These questions were harsh.

Thunder vibrated the ground as the loud sound echoed through out the whole mountain. It was scary to hear thunder so close. "I will never forget about Hunter. Isn't the United Kingdom far from the United States?" he nodded.

"But it's my home. Were you a terrible child when you first got here?" The United States have always been my home. Most of my family members were born in Mexico though. I wish I knew the rest of our family history but sadly I don't. My father would never talk to me about the family history when I asked, neither would my mother.

"No I wasn't. I was quiet like how I used to be and still kind of am. What was it like growing up as a regular teenager with parents loving you?" Zayn turned his head and in the corner of my eye, he was staring at me.

He shrugged. "I wasn't really a regular teenager but I did have loving parents and I still do. I was always getting into trouble. What is it like growing up in your teenage years in this shit hole and in your life?" I look at a leaf in front of my feet with rain drops on it.

I looked at Zayn. Thinking as I stared. I am eighteen years old and I don't know how to drive. I should've already known a little bit how to when I was sixteen. I barely got my first kiss when it was my eighteenth birthday. I have never had a boyfriend. My parents never accepted me fully into the family. My older sister overdosed on drugs when I was thirteen. They loved her more than me. I've never been touched sexual at all before and I don't think I ever want to be. I don't know what easily materials are in life. Like Ms.Rosa and her mascara yesterday. I don't have much of an education and I don't know math that well either or anything involving school. I only know what I was learned in school, in eighth grade. That was when I got dropped out and brought here. There is many, many, much more things also.

"My teenage years in life and in here weren't.." I stopped talking. I couldn't describe what I should say. It wasn't fun, it wasn't scary. "My years growing up were hell." I finished. A little shocked in myself because I never wanted to admit that to someone or myself. Truthfully, it was. "What did you do that got yourself into trouble growing up?"

Zayn fiddled with his fingers. "It started with growing up with friends. Friends that I had known since kindergarten. I never knew they would be such bad influences. I started to ditch, I used to smoke when I shouldn't have. I stole from stores. I stole cars in high school and I used to break into houses and take things that I shouldn't have." He said. His face looked to the side at me. We were both staring at each other.