My Ex boyfriend Is A Pycho

Chapter 1-Tequila Him Out

My head was heavy, more substantial than a sack of bricks, my eyesight was foggy, until I repeatedly brushed my left palm over my eyes and flicked them open, and I felt fizzed out, like I had been digging up a quarry all by myself.

An ordure of stale cigar and alcohol floated across my nose reminding me of where I was, at Helen's house the morning after a toxic party.
 
My left leg was on the floor, and my right on a couch filled with teenagers who were deep asleep. Switching into a seating position, I dropped my right leg to the floor and stretched my bones.

The room was a complete mess, plastic tumbles, dead cigarette pieces, clothes, and food crumbles and remains laying all around.

Glimpsing at my wet chest, I almost mistook my crop-top for a rainbow flower garden. It was smeared with kaleidoscopic lipsticks, alcohol, soda, and other unidentifiable colors.
 
The ordeal wasn't new, that was what always happened during days following a tequila-fueled farewell night.
 
I hoisted myself up with my hands using the couch and got to my feet, after a mia struggle. My head was not becoming any lighter, complementing with dizziness I felt like I would black out any time from then.

One foot was higher than the other, only to realize that I only had one heel on. The other shimmered somewhere in between two random guys.

I barely had space to step on, there were way too many teenagers on the floor. My clumsiness and dizziness collectively working together, I strode stumblingly and stepped on almost everyone my feet came across.

"Sorry, sorry," I apologized, doubting I pronounced the words right, waking them.

As soon as I got to the rose-red, modern designed, high heel, I snatched it swiftly putting it on.

Helen's house wasn't new. I had attended another party before, so I had a clue of where the exit could have been.

°*°

"What happened to you?" Sam enquired, "you look like__"

"A victim of assassination," Sam and I both chuckled at the scintillating remark from MM.

Sam and MM were my adoptive parents. They adopted me when I was twelve took me all through middle school until then that I was in highschool senior year.

"Yeah, that's the word," Sam agreed.

"Are you two done mocking me?" I quizzed comically shuffling my index finger between both of them.

They knew that I was probably in a party or a gimmick. That was where I always went to ever since the past few days.

I wasn't such a party animal, and drink myself to oblivion, or gimmick with my friends and drink till I could no more, or live a messy life without purpose nor direction. MM and Sam were shocked by the abrupt change in behavior, but they said it was good as long as I didn't get myself in serious trouble.

I lied to them about the reason I changed, while I knew the solemn reason behind it.

Climbing up our stairs, I jumped into my room to prepare myself for breakfast. I quickly closed the door behind me for my parents not to even peek at the room.

It was a total mess. Heaps of clothes everywhere, walls smeared with all sorts of colours, an unkempt bed like one that had been made when dinosaurs still existed, a broken bedside lamp on the floor, torn curtains, and other broken stuff I couldn't recall what they were while they were in one piece.

I stumbled over the piles of clothes on the floor for the curtain. Opening the kingly curtain, golden-yellow sun rays swarmed in adding colour to the room. They always did no matter how disarrayed my room was, which was one of the reasons I appreciated the genuineness of nature.

Swiveling my head, the curtain's conduit pipe loosened, and the entire curtain toppled down with a loud cling.

I groaned whisperingly in ire.

"Taylor is everything okey up there?"

"I'm fine, thank you." No I wasn't.

A mia glance at myself in my bathroom's mirror, I was aghast by my own image. I almost had a semi-heartattack. Victim of assassination was an understatement.

My back shaggy hair had erected like one that had just been electrocuted, black mascara all around my eyes forming a sort of ghost like black hallow, and my red lipstick ran from my left ear to my right like one that had been feasting on blood all night.

After undressing, I opened my shower and allowed lukewarm drops to crush on me.

As much as I tried to erase him he still lingered in my mind. A whole night trying to tequila him out of my head but he still didn't get out. Not even an itty-bitty fragment of his memory did. I couldn't clearly recall how many guys I hanged out with or any of their names, but what I could recall was the fact that non of them made me feel like Wade did.

He made me feel special. He made me feel like I was the only girl in the world. He made me feel health, and strong, and confident but then I was just the contrast of everything he made me feel. Clinging from reality by drinking his memories away, which clearly didn't work out as intended.

I enveloped myself with my towel and marched for my bedroom, for the perfect clothes to clad in during a family Sunday.

The hangovers had reduce. Though a part of my head was still on fire.

Finding clothes to dress in had now become a challenge. Like swimming in a vast, deep, blue ocean without the slightest clue of where to or where from.

I dug into the heaps looking for something tidy to put on.

Black slinky jeans trouser, a casual pink t-shirt with the wordings, I'M A GIRL, on it around the chest part, and to top up the outfit a pair of white sport shoes.

I could only find one sock of its kind. The other was a miracle to find. I forced myself to ware a black, and a blue one.

The clad was a complete colour clash, but I had no reason to care.

An enticing aroma of a sweet delicacy embraced me all the way from my room to the dining. Looking at the food awaiting me on the table, I could tell that it was MM who had prepared it.

MM was a professional chef and after quitting his job in Honeyvill six years past, he decided to start his own hotel in Mistyhills. Cheese and Burger, he named it.

Crispy bacon, golden coloured fried eggs, roasted chopped tomatoes, and a glass of milk on the side. I was already drooling before I got a hold on them.

I always loved it when MM did the cooking unlike Sam. Sam was a psychiatrist and a part time professional therapist. He didn't perform very well in cooking. There at times one could think he cooked in an active volcano, black as coal, but MM kept on insisting that he should learn how to cook.

MM and Sam were both done with their breakfast, and were watching the trending hype on TV waiting for me to finish my breakfast.

I didn't disappoint them. I was done within no time. Assassinating the food mercilessly until the plate was sneaky clean, was a piece of cake.

"Ewe, some humans are so brutal," Sam disguised as I walked in behind them.

The hype was generally about a murder. It stated something to do with a young student getting butchered mercilessly. A mugshot of him was displayed on the screen. Seemingly, I couldn't recognize him. Furthermore, he wasn't from our school, Mistyhills highschool.

Before the hype was over, my phone rang. It wasn't in my pocket, it rang from somewhere in my room so I had to race for it before the caller hang up.

"Hello," it was Isabella one of my cheerleader clique friends.

I wasn't used to her calling me on Sunday's so it felt absurd, "is everything alright?"

"Have you watched the hype?" She quizzed agitatedly.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Do you recall that guy?"

"No, I don't think I've seen him before."

"He was one your boyfriends for the night in yesterday's party."

I went speechless for a second carefully choosing the right combination of words to utter next.