*Mature Warning*
18+ Content 🔞
Please Don't Report
Zoey Bold is shy, insecure and riddled with bad thoughts 24/7. Her girlfriend abused her, hurt her and left her with scars up her spine that she could never forget.
Zoey watched as her now ex girl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Viva
"Why didn't she call." I groaned through the phone, it had been a week and Kim was sighing in the background.
"Maybe I got your number wrong." She said, I rolled my eyes that was highly doubtful.
"Really?" I pondered, I heard her groan.
"Less than likely." Kim replied, I placed a hand on my forehead.
"Maybe she wasn't interested." I spoke softly, this sucked.
"Highly doubtful." She responded, which caused me to rolled my eyes.
"That's usually how it goes." I replied, she gives me an annoyed sigh.
"You really liked her didn't you." She said, I whimpered to myself.
"I don't know, it just felt right." I said and then the call cut out.
I groaned, kim needed a new phone but since she was picky and loved her phone to much I had to deal with her service crashing and her not being able to talk for hours. She was right i shouldn't be moping around over a girl, she was a college girl and probably had a life that I didn't fit into.
But she could've just said that...
Urg this was getting annoying, I rolled around on my bed and groaned. The house was silent, Mathew had gotten the hint I wasn't going to let him have Cleo until the issue with Allie was solved.
Since Allie & my ex best friend lived with them, Allie got sent to Mathews parents every other day so Cleo could visit. Mathews parents hated me because of my race and because I wasn't straight, hence why they helped Mathew hid Allie from me because they were happy to have a grandkid that wasn't black.
They wanted nothing to do with Cleo, and Cleo didn't know who they were. My parents weren't in the picture, last I heard my father went back to jail and my mother was still sobbing somewhere begging somebody to bail him out.
That was the type of love I didn't want, the type of love where you believed the other couldn't do no wrong and constantly ignored the problems around you. Ignored the bruises, ignored the cheating, ignored the issues, ignored the fact he was a bad man who belonged where he was put yet kept putting up money to get him out because you 'loved' him while your daughter watched from the sidelines wondering why her birthday money went to her father's bail amount.
Once I was able to fend for myself, I got emancipated and moved into a friend's house until I managed to get a job and then a kind old lady rented me the apartment above her. When they died I was looking for a way to pay for college, and they left me enough money to pay my whole ride just because I would help her out late nights when she couldn't cook.
