Four:- Lucky

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~Justin’s point of view~


It's 10.45 p.m. and I'm taking my bath now. Darielle is downstairs cleaning the living room. She didn't need to do that. More importantly, why did she do that? This isn't her home. Sigh . . .



I turn off the tap and got out from the shower. I wrap my towel around my waist. I walked over to the sink. I splashed water all over my face. I sighed and turn off the tap. I lifted my head up to see my reflection.



"What a loser! Go back to where you came from."

"Go back to Planet Weirdtron! Such a dork!"

"What made you alive? We don't need any nerds!"

"Like anyone would ever like you!"




"GAAAAHHHH!!!!" I punched the mirror 'till it cracked. I hissed as my hand was cut and bloody. I let my tears flow as I gritted my teeth. I heard footsteps rushing and the door slammed open to reveal Darielle with worried eyes.



"What happened?!" She exclaimed worriedly. Soon, I sense her breath hitched up as soon as she saw my bloody hand. She rushed over and grabbed my hand. I hissed at the pain. "Sorry . . ." She apologized.



She went and then came back with the aid kit. Soon, she just treated me there . . . on the bathroom floor. I watched as she wiped away the blood. I stared at her. The feeling of her . . . worried for me, made me feel . . . loved.



"Why did you hurt yourself?" She asked with those innocent eyes. I stared at her then sighed and looked down. "No one will ever like me." I mumbled as a frustrated look took over me.



"Yes there is." She answered as if it was a simple answer. I snapped my head up and furrowed my eyebrows. "NO, there isn't! No one likes me now, tomorrow & never!" I exclaimed with pure anger & sadness.




Darielle sighed as she damp some iodine onto my cuts. "Someone will like you and they have, now." She spoke calmly. I grumbled frustratingly. "Tell me! Tell me who likes me!!" I demanded. She sighed as she puts down the bottle.



"Your mom." She spoke. I realized what she said as my mouth opened a little. Yes. She's mom of course. I scowled and furrowed my eyebrows. "But she's my mom! Of course she has to like me! I'm her son!" I exclaimed. She huffed and looks me in the eye.



"She doesn't like you, Justin." She said sternly. "She loves you. Every mother loves their child. No matter if they're adopted or abandon. Every mother," She sighs before she continues. "Loves a child." She finished wrapping my bandage and closed the aid kit.



I huffed. "She's always late for work and rarely spends time with me." I frowned. Darielle got up as I stayed seated on the floor. "Your lucky to have a mother who works so hard for your living. You should be thankful." She stated as she reaches the door.



I scoffed and folded my arms. "As if your parents don't spend all the time with you." I snapped. She stopped at the door as her back was facing me. I couldn't see her face.



She puts her hand on the door frame. "They don't." She spoke. My face softened. "What?" She turns her head and looked at me with a sad smile and . . . tears in her eyes . . . 



"They're dead."

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