Chapter 1

58K 821 265
                                    

You know what the worst thing is about moving?

Not leaving friends seeing as how I have none...

Not leaving a house full of good memories, because I have none...

But having to completely restart the process over again.

Anyways.. My name is Skylar Bradley. I have long brown hair that hangs a few inches above my waist, big blue eyes, and I'm 5'7.

You may think I'm a loser because I have no friends and no good memories, but Im the one who left my friends and my house is only a reminder of the man who ruined my life.

Who? You ask.

My dad.

Yes, my Dad completely ruined my life when I was fifteen years old by cheating behind my moms back for two years with his secretary.

His fucking secretary!!

I've completely blocked him out ever since he left our house one day and never returned.

He tried calling and writing, but I ignore.

That was two years ago and I am now seventeen and am completely different than I was two years ago.

Back ten it was me in dresses, flats and high heels, now its me in skinny jeans, combat boots, and converse.

You may think I'm your typical bad ass, but I'm not.

I keep to myself so I'm not involved in any drama, and no one bothers me because I'm in the shadows.

Then again, last time someone bothered me, he was a jock, and lets just say that he might no be having children in the near future..

Yeah, before my dad ever cheated, he taught me self defense and when to use it.

Other than sticking up for myself, I'm a complete nobody.

No, I'm not emo, I just don't like attention and don't want any friends who will let me down like he had.

I trusted him with all I had and he left me for some slut, I don't want to go through that again..

"Come on Skylar! We gotta go, the new family will be here in an hour!" mom yelled from downstairs.

My mom and I never got along after dad left. Probably because I look just like him and it pains her to see me.

You can completely see him in me, I'm just not like him.

Sighing, I grabbed my laptop before walking down the stairs and out to my moms car where she sat impatiently.

"What took you so long?" She asked.

"I was busy.." I shrugged.

Mom started blabbering about how I should be more responsible, so I just put my headphones in and started making new songs on my stereo app.

The thing that keeps my mind off of things has always been dancing or singing.

People say that I have a talent, and sometimes I sing in Cafes for a little extra cash.

The thing with music is that it can completely relate to your problems and help you keep your mind off of them.

Singing and dancing are both like that and it calms me down.

Mom disagrees with my passion for singing and dancing, but I don't care about her opinion.

She is an entrepreneur, so she's never home and I always move my furniture around so I can make up my own dance routines.

However, she doesn't make me stop, she says if it makes me happy, go for it, and I do.

Even though we don't get along, we have the occasional nice chats or hugs, stuff like that, I just wished it happened more..

"Are you listening to anything I'm saying?!" mom asked, yanking my earphones off of my head- ripping some hair out in the process.

"Dude! Those were two hundred bucks!" I yelled, grabbing my them out of her horribly manicured hands.

If I wanted to be a pro at making songs and different mixes, Id have to get good beats so that I could hear well and drown out any noise.

That's why I sung at Cafes, to get enough money to buy this kind of stuff.

"Well you should have been listening!" She scowled.

"At you bitching?! I do enough of that!" I growled, glaring right back.

She sighed before turning her head back to the road.

"Well be there in six hours."

Goody me. Note to sarcasm..

We are moving New York City and I'm attending a private school. It isn't one of those ones where you have to wear a uniform- I would die if it was- but I still don't wanna leave.

It sucks..

I can not and I repeat. Can. Not. Wear uniforms. I just don't roll like that. Skinny jeans, converse and my leather jacket is what keeps me going.

I didn't even notice that I had fallen asleep until my mom was shaking me awake.

"We're here"

To Love A FighterWhere stories live. Discover now