Unpredictable - Unbelievable

eleven.

"September Alexis Williams! Where have you been?" my mother asked angrily when I walked in the front door. She must have seen Xavier drop me off, and I was five minutes late.

"A friend drove me home," I said to her.

"No. Where have you been other than school?" she asked again, demanding an answer.

"I just went away with a friend. We drove around, that's all. I needed a break from everyone," I told her. It was true. I had to get away from Derek.

"You don't just get "breaks" in life. Because of your behavior, I'm grounding you. You must come right home from school everyday," she explained flatly. I could here the dissapointment in her voice; I had never gotten much in trouble before. She started to walk away, when I began to speak up.

"But Mom, you don't understand. I had to stay far away from Derek," I explained to her, hoping to get someone to understand what I was going through.

"Why on Earth would you want to avoid a sweet boy like Derek? He treats you great," she said before shutting her bedroom door. "That reminds me," she spoke through the door, "you never told me how the dance went. Tell me about it when you are done your homework."

I numbly walked away from her room, and towards my own. I shut my bedroom door, and lay on my queen sized bed, staring at the ceiling I had painting like the night sky. Tears began to well up in my eyes after I truly realized what was going on: nobody believed that Derek could ever hurt me. I rolled over on my side, crying harder now, wishing that someone - anyone - would just understand.

I heard my phone vibrating constantly on my side table, my instinct knowing that it was Derek who was texting me. I just wanted him to leave me alone, to move on and get over it. With anger I slammed open my closet doors, and pulled out every shirt, sweater and dress I ever bought to look good for Derek. I went to my white dresser and pulled out all my skirts and most of my pants, feeling a slight relief.

I shut all the drawers to my now mostly empty dresser, and realized that all my photos of him were still in my bedroom.

Another rush of anger came over me, and I began to throw every picture frame of us together onto the ground. When all the frames were smashed, I gave a sigh of relief. He was finally out of my house. The sad part was, he wasn't out of my mind.