Amar

Dear Moon

So here I am sitting on my bed and writing in my diary. And NO! I don't start by saying "dear diary" -I'm not that basic- I start by what my heart tells me to write. I start with what my wounds and cuts tell me to write. I start by what my tears tell me to write.

All of my wounds and tears create my words, not that I say much, but if I do, I only say what is necessary and what I truly feel.

But in my brain or hearts, or wherever you hear that small voice inside of you talking, never shuts up. Like right now! I'm talking to myself for goodness sake!

Sometimes I feel crazy and sometimes I feel depressed, sometimes I feel lonely and sad. I don't remember the last time I felt truly happy. Maybe before all of that shit happened.

But I'm not that type of person that sits around crying because she feels sad for herself. No. I make myself busy with reading, writing, and drawing. Mostly reading. I read a lot! And sometimes I sleep without knowing I was sleepy!

One day I was at the library reading a new book I discovered that day. It was amazing; I couldn't take my eyes off of the pages, off of each word on those pages. I kept reading and reading that day I finished more than half of the book until it was time for the library to close. But by the time, I was fast asleep.

I remember waking up by a girls voice. Her voice was very sweet and she looked very nice, she told me it was closing time and smiled at me. I loved that smile because it was one smile that I haven't received in a very long time. I couldn't not smile back at her. I thanked her for waking me up that day and ran back home.

I was very scared because it was super late and I haven't prepared for dinner that day. My mom threw a bottle of beer at me because I made her hungry. But the night ended fast by her passing out on the couch in our living room and me cleaning the small cut I got on my thigh. It didn't hurt too bad, it was just stinging me. I slept hungry that night too.

Speaking of the devil, I heard my moms voice -scream- from the living room.

"Come make me breakfast!" She shouted.

"I'm coming!" I shouted back at her.

I quickly put my diary in my cabinet drawer and lock it. I take a quick deep breath before opening the door and walking out of my safe haven. I check the clock on the kitchen wall to see that it was 9:36 a.m.

Every day I wake up at 6:30 a.m, eat breakfast, jog for a whole three miles-in summer and spring-, take a quick shower, and then write my feeling down on my diary.

I make an egg and bacon sandwich for my mom and put the food on the small beaten up round table in the small kitchen.

Our house is very old and it also looks very old. More like a hunted house. Two-bedrooms, one bathroom, a very small living room and kitchen. The walls are white but look very dirty; the floors are wooden, you can see some nails popping out of the floors too. The house is very ugly, but the only room in the house I find beautiful in my room. It's my very small, old, run-down mansion. Or at least that's how I see it.

Tomorrow is school and I have a lot of homework to do, so I tell my mom that I'm going to the library and she just looks at me and tells me to do whatever the fuck I want.

She never cared about me, not that I care if she doesn't but deep down I know that I do.

I always wanted her to make me feel loved or at least show some affection towards me, but all of that stopped after my dad died and worst, my mom found out he cheated on her multiple times before. She went into a depressed state. She started drinking a lot; the bottle would always be in her hand.

I honestly thought that she would beat her own demons and gradually start to go back to the loving, caring mother she was, but my dreams shattered after she started abusing me and blaming me for everything that happened in her life.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I grab my jacket that is hanging on the hanger next to the door and leave the house.

It's freezing outside. It's in mid-October meaning that it's almost Halloween. It's that time where all the parties happen and I don't get sleep until two in the morning, sometimes even later.

I keep walking and rubbing my hands together to try and get some heat from them but to no use. I try to blow hot air on my hands but still to no use.

from the corner of my eyes, I see a black car that looks very expensive and I immediately know who it is.

Kiani -AKA the worst human being on earth.

We went to the same high school and I've known him since we were in seventh grade. He is the total opposite of me. He's rich, mean-only to me-, cool, and as much as I hate to admit it, he's gorgeous. Very tall and handsome; jet black hair, grayish blue eyes that could eat your soul, and a lean muscular body.

He is the dream of every girl at my school. But not mine.

He rolls down the window of his car and smirks at me.

"Are you cold?" He asks in a very mocking voice with a small fake pout.

I ignore him like I always do and I keep walking.

Not surprisingly, he keeps driving at a very slow rate. I have a feeling that he's not gonna let me walk freely. He never lets me do anything without bullying me and making fun of me with his friends. His horrible friends.

"Don't ignore me!" He says angrily.

I look at him with an expression that says 'Are you kidding me?'

"You don't deserve my attention" I reply with a bored tone. I'm not going to deal with him today. The weekend is my break from seeing him and his dumb friends that laugh at everything stupid that doesn't deserve a laugh, not even a chuckle.

"You wanna play this game? You know what will happen if you don't listen to what I say."

"The same thing that always happens, yeah yeah I've been there done that. I know what will happen and it never really bothered me anyway. The same old thing that happens every day; I got used to it." I look at my feet as I finish talking. Him being around me makes me uneasy.

"Why are you walking in the cold? You're gonna freeze to death with those clothes you're wearing. Couldn't you at least bring a better jacket? You look fucking pale." He says with his brows furrowed.

He actually sounds concerned, but knowing him I know he really doesn't care. I reply with a quick "I'm fine."

"Get in the car" his stern voice makes me stop in my place like I heard the biggest shock in my life. Was he actually concerned? No, he wouldn't be, I laugh to my self. This was a big joke to him like everything else.

"Are you deaf?"

"I'm not getting in your car!"

"Get in right now unless you have a death wish."

"You're crazy!" I shake my head at him. He's crazy. I don't want to be in the same car as him let alone talk to him and here he is talking to me like we're distant friends.

Not wanting to argue with him any longer, I get in the car. Ohh It's warm. I look at him and exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding.

He reaches over to me and I immediately get confused and scared. I freeze in my place as I see his hand going up to my shoulder, he grabs the seatbelt and puts it on for me. What the-

"You look like you've never been in a car before" He says and drives off.

***
He is crazy, but in a good way. 'Evil laugh'

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See you in the next chapter 'XOXO'