Hearts Race, The Moments Gone - Andy Biersack

31: Who Is My Father?

A/N I'm evil aren't I? I wouldn't dare end a story that way so I am continuing on. Enjoy the sweet tortures of this fanfiction. I love you my wittle fishies!!!!!! :*

Jenessa's POV

*12 years later*

My alarm clock went off blasting Cancerous Skies by Suicide Silence. I smiled at the beautiful screaming of Mitch Lucker and sat up. I ran my hand through my knotted, black hair. I rubbed the sleep away from my eyes and shut off my alarm. My mother walked in and I rolled my eyes.

Here comes a fake ass good morning.

"Oh your up" My mother spoke in shock. I didn't understand why she was shocked. I was always up when she came in.

"No shit Sherlock" I stood up and walked over to my closet of leather, band merch, and black.

"Watch your language" She scolded and sighed.

"Whatever" I rolled my eyes.

I pulled out a pair of black jeggings and a Job For A Cowboy shirt. My mother sighed again. This time disappointment layered in her breath. I really didn't give a shit.

"Can I dress in privacy or do you need to breathe down my neck then too?" I spoke harshly.

"I don't breathe down your neck and I was just checking to see if your up" Then the bitch left.

Thank God! I fucking hated my mom. She hid so many things from me. Especially when it came to questions about my father. I couldn't know his name, occupation, why they weren't together, or anything of the sort. It pissed me off. I didn't even look anything like my mom. She had red hair, I had black. Her skin was tan, mine was pale white. Her hair was thin, mine was thick. Her body was curved, mine was straight-ish. She liked country, I loved metal. I questioned if she was really my mother sometimes.

I went into the bathroom that is across from my room. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked fucking ugly. There were bags underneath my eyes. My hair was everywhere like I had just had sex. My eyes were a dull grey color instead of their usual blue. My acne wasn't as bad as the day before though. Proactive is the love of my life. I poked at my stomach. It's not flat enough. I needed to skip dinner that night. And lunch. Maybe breakfast. I deserved to starve.

I stripped out of my clothes and turned on the hot water. I watched as the steam layered over the mirror, blocking my hideous reflection.

I sighed and moved away from the mirror before I could regret looking into it. I turned on the cold water just a little bit before stepping in. The lukewarm water ran down my back. I then looked at my fat ass thighs. They were touching.

Why must they be touching?

My eyes trailed to my visible stomach. Then to my worthless arms. Then I touched my cheek bones. They weren't like my moms but they were a little round still.

My moms are pretty though. Another reason why I hate her. God, she thinks she so fucking perfect as do her friends.

I only had one friend. His name is Michael Page. Every time I even thought of him, I smile. I had been in love with him for the past five years. If only he had felt the same. He had a girlfriend at the time that who I though he was totally in love with. Nonetheless, he always seemed to make me happy. I should have been over all the butterflies by then but I was not. I was still into him. Probably always would be.

I realized that I had been in the shower for longer than usual so I quickly washed my hair and body. I shut off the water and got out. I wrapped a random white towel around my body and grabbed my clothes off the floor. I left the bathroom and went into my room. I struggled to keep the towel on my body until I closed the door to my room. I turned around and saw my mom on my bed with my phone.