I don't know if I should reply or not. I just keep pacing back and forth in front of my bed. Who is this? How did they get my number? Was it accidental? Do they know what's going on in my life? Do I know them? Have I seen them before? Do they live close to me? All of those questions and many more are constantly running through my head. The house is silent which means they're either at a bar or asleep. I hope it's the latter part. That way, I won't have to deal with another beating. I'm glad it's the weekend. Hopefully all of my bruises, my blackened face, and my broken rib are healed by Monday. I don't wanna have to come up with another lame excuse to cover up for my harrowing life. Deciding it wouldn't hurt anything, I replied.
To : Unknown Number
'Who is this?'
An agonizing minute later, they replied.
'It's Hayden. Isn't this Maria?'
'No. This is Chloe. I believe you have the wrong number.'
'Oh. I'm sorry. My girlfriend got a new number. I guess I wrote it down wrong.'
I don't know why, but when I read girlfriend, my stomach dropped.
'It's alright. Apology accepted.'
'Thank you.'
Not knowing what to reply, I just said okay to end our weird conversation. So the mystery number is a guys. A nice guy that has a girlfriend. I wonder what she's going through. Is it as bad as what I'm dealing with? I doubt it. Nothing can be worse than this.
'Your name is Chloe? I know a Chloe. What's your last name?'
Feeling a little wary of him asking a personal question, I took a minute to reply. Why does he need to know my last name? I'm pretty positive he has no idea who I am. So with that being said, I replied.
'No offense, but I don't think you need to know my last name. I don't know a Hayden so therfore you don't know me.'
'You don't know that. We could have met at a party or something. It's just a friendly question.'
'I don't go to parties. Please quit texting me. You're just some stranger. Text your girlfriend. Seems like she could use some help.'
'Oh da**!! I forgot!! Yeah, her parents are getting a divorce. She needs me to comfort her.'
Just like I thought. It's not even close to being worse than my situation.
'I didn't ask what's wrong. Go comfort her and leave me alone.'
I don't care about anyone else's problems if they don't care about mine. Both of them could care less about little ' ol Chloe.
'What's wrong with you? Mommy problems? :('
I can tell even through a text message that he was mocking me. What a freakin' jerk.
'You have no idea. You don't care about my problems so I don't care about yours or your little girlfriends. Just leave me the he** alone!!'
Luckily, he didn't text back. He has no right to just assume I have 'Mommy Problems'. Even though I do, it's on a whole other level. His girlfriends parents are getting a divorce? Well mine like to beat me until I pass out. I have no sympathy for her.
I got on Instagram and checked everyone's latest posts. Brandee Wallace from my second period class posted a picture of her and her boyfriend Mike. The caption said 'Me and the Bae! ;)' I find it annoying when people call their mate bae. It's really stupid and pointless. That's just my opinion. I'm sure there are lots of people out there that have a so called 'Bae'. It's their choice, not mine. I never post anything on Instagram because I'm afraid of being judged by every one of my followers. Deciding it was time to man up, I took a selfie and posted it. I've seen Lindsey taking one eyed selfies. All you do is turn your camera to an angle and take a picture of the side of your face. So far, that's all I know how to do. I put my hair in front of my eye to cover it a little. Maybe that will help shield me from superficial observant teenagers. For the caption, I said: "Don't judge a book by it's cover. Read a few chapters before you decide it's not worthy of spending your time on." Within a minute of uploading it, I received two likes. One being from Lindsey and the other one being from Grayson. Lindsey, being the kind friend she is, commented saying that I was beautiful inside and out. I thanked her of course. She is such a great friend. I don't know how she puts up with me and my mood swings. If I was her, I would've left a long time ago. Right when I was about to get off, a notification popped up in the lower right hand side of my Instagram home page. Curious, I tapped the little notification and was surprised to see a follow request from a Hayden Miller. Wait... is it the same Hayden that just text me? I got on his profile page and was stunned by his amazingly good looks. How can one guy be so hot? A little scared of the person behind the picture, I allowed him to follow me. I'm the one that said not to judge. I can't be a hypocrite and not allow him to follow me just because he looks like one of those hot players you read about in books. I have to give him a chance. Everyone deserves that. As soon as I hit accept and followed him back, he commented on my photo.
haydenm.18 @adamschloe101 Sounds like you need to start listening to your own advice, babe.
What the heck? Why would he comment that on my Instagram when everyone and their mommas can read it? It's not like I don't already get enough hate at school. Instead of commenting back, I text the jerk.
To : A**hole
'What the heck was that about? You could have just text me instead of putting it on the Internet.'
What's on the Internet is permanent. Even if you delete it, it's still there. It's gonna be stuck in cyberspace for the rest of your life.
From : A**hole
'What are you talking about? ;)'
'You know exactly what I'm talking about. Quit acting like the blonde idiot all of his friends make fun of. I'm not stupid and neither are you.'
'You automatically assumed I was some jerk. You can't just assume I don't care about you or anyone else without getting to know me. You might be surprised at how much I can care about someone.'
I hate it, but the jerk is right. Without even noticing it, I was being a hypocrite.
'I'm sorry. I don't know you and I shouldn't have just assumed you were some cold hearted jerk.'
'You're right. I don't care about your problems though. I know how you are. You think no one could ever be in as hard of a situation as you. You think no one could ever give a rats a** about you. You won't ever give anyone the chance to because you're afraid of hurting them or worse, hurting yourself in the process. Yeah I'm judging right now, but tell me I'm wrong.'
I couldn't focus on anything but that gosh dang text right now. How in the world does he know that? He got everything right. It's a little scary if you ask me.
'Congratulations! You figured out that I don't like giving out my trust. You may think you know everything, but until you walk a mile in my shoes, you won't understand how I feel. Yeah, I'm terrified of being crushed and torn to pieces, but guess what? I've got bigger balls then you even dream about having. I've been through so much sh** that I can walk through any field of thorns and come out without a scratch. I've not only been physically beaten, but I've dealt with so much bullsh** that I can withstand so much pain mentally without breaking down. You have no idea what I have to deal with. So before you go trying to figure me out, take a chance to get to know the real me. I bet you won't be able to wrap your little head around half the stuff I've been through.'
With that speech running through his head and mine, I turned my phone off and took a little trip to dreamland where no one can hurt me.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/18854444-288-k536459.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The Text
Teen Fiction"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises...