I hate you, I loathe you, I love you... [ON HOLD]

A day in the life of me; Hayley Turner [Chapter 2]

"H? Hayley? Wake up sweetie." I heard a gentle voice try to get me to open my eyes to face yet another day. I felt a hand on my shoulder gently nudging me. I rolled over onto my back and rubbed my eyes, slowly opening them to see my Mum hovering over me.

"What do you want?" I mumbled in my morning voice.

"It's almost 8. You're going to be late for school."

"I don't care." I said sternly.

"I'm sick of this attitude Hayley. Get ready now!" my Mum demanded, ripping the covers off of me. I groaned loudly so she could hear me as she exited the room. I reluctantly got out of bed, made my way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My hair was a mess and my face looked awful, I was still half asleep so my eyes were still half-closed. I showered to refresh myself, deciding that I'd blow-dry my hair so it was almost dry, and then let the London morning breeze choose how my hair would be styled.

I dried myself off and got changed into my school uniform-black skirt, short sleeved white blouse and a blue vest-pullover. This is one of the things I hate about school; the awful uniforms you have to wear. As if my life wasn't already bad enough. I put on some eyeliner to make me look like I was awake nice and early this morning, which I obviously wasn't. I trundled down the stairs and went into the kitchen. I went to grab the cereal box when my Mum snatched it from me.

"No time for breakfast! You're already late enough as it is!" I scowled at how uncaring my Mum was for my well-being. I went to text Jodie to get her to meet me on the corner. No wait, she stayed over last night. Come to think of it, where is Jodie?

"Mum where on earth is Jodie?"

"She left ages ago as she got up at the right time!" she exclaimed, deciding to rub in the fact that it was only 8:25am and my day was screwed up already.

"Thanks for telling me sooner." I mumbled sarcastically.

"Just go to school. You're-"

"Late! Yes I know! It's not like you've told me 10 times already this morning is it?" I yelled.

Monday's were not the greatest of days in our house. Dad would always be at work most of the time in London, working at the major banks and getting loads of money for just sitting around, answering phones and working out the occasional 1+1=2 sort of situation. I hardly ever saw him on weekdays, and it's the same at the weekend as I either go out or lock myself in my room for most of the day; only to avoid Mother-Father-Daughter shopping and helping around the home. The only occasion when I see my Mum and Dad is maybe when we pass in the kitchen; they've just opened a bottle of wine to drink whilst watching TV catch-ups of NCIS while I've entered to get myself a coke, or our silent mealtimes where no conversation is exchanged whatsoever other than 'how is the food?' or 'what are we doing tomorrow'. Sometimes my Mum asks how my day was. I just reply the same every time: 'It was ok.' I know she seems interested, but I'm pretty sure she never is. Yeah, my Mum can be supportive when she wants which isn’t very often but to be honest, I couldn’t care less.

I stormed out, flinging my bag over my shoulder, slipping on my shoes and marched out the door, slamming it behind me. The cold London morning air hit me immediately. I kept my head down and focused on walking. The occasional car drove past, making each gust of wind stronger; my eyes watering slightly from the coldness. I checked the time on my phone:

8:35

I had 10 minutes until school started and I was around 15 minutes away. Shit.

I sped up my pace, moving swiftly past any passers-by walking in the opposite direction. I turned round the corner and walked past the small parade of shops.