Finding The Badboy's Diary [#ONC2022]

Chapter 3: The Words

Chelsea's POV

Feeling guilty, I moan, closing it after reading that, my conscience telling me this is a bad idea and a real invasion of his privacy. I'm about to retrieve my index finger that's used to indicate the page when a weird thought pops in.

Why don't you use this as a chance to pay him back for all the verbal abuses he's rained on you these past years?

It's as if there's a devil on my shoulder whispering this in my ear and I can't do anything more than to will it to shut the fuck up. My psychic powers don't work as it continues to say weird stuff to my mind.

He has inflicted emotional injuries on you, a few of which are physical like the one on your wrist now. This is nothing compared to all that, besides, he won't have to know.

"Damn!" I mutter, agreeing with my thoughts as I push the book open. My eyes locating where I stopped previously and continue.

So you see, this is really personal for me, writing this. I know the whole school will have a fit if they ever get a hold of this. I can just picture the highlight, 'Star soccer player and school badboy, getting emotional and pouring his heart out into a dumb journal'

At this point, I don't think I care as this feels good, penning this down. It's like I can finally gain control over my life for once, doing something based on a decision I made by myself without the help of anyone.

I'm just a spoilt rich kid, living a fake happy life in a fake happy family. Elvis suggests I go see a therapist, saying something about keeping a pretentious front can drive someone crazy. He even used the joker as an example, crazy bastard.

I think I might take him up on that offer because if writing this alone can make me feel lighter, imagine how I'll feel if I finally talk to a professional, a good one at that who will listen genuinely and not because they are getting paid to listen.

Victor talked about knowing a guy while the topic was ongoing and so I had to prevent myself from asking him how he did, thus he appeared a bit uncomfortable.

Well, I guess that's enough heart pouring for one day, and to say the truth, this happens to be strangely refreshing. This is my secret though, neither Elvis nor Victor know about it and I hope to keep it that way, for now.

"Wow," I exhale, attempting to wrap my head around what I just read. The new information plays a lot with my perceptions as this opens my eyes to see a softer part of Terry.

"Ooom," I groan in irritation pushing the diary away from me as I start to feel dreadful for judging him.

This is why I don't get involved in anybody's business, I was content with the image of him I had in my imaginary vision but now it's beginning to shake as doubts fill my brain.

I squeeze my lids tightly, wishing I can do the same to my thoughts as I pray for sleep to take me. Hours drag on as I lay restless in bed, finally at the crack of dawn I get lost in dreamland.

******

"Shit!" I grunt, spotting the time. I realize I have only 20 minutes before classes start, meanwhile I haven't brushed my hair. I stare at my bland face in the mirror and decide to skip make up, if I want to make it to the first period I have to make do without.

I quickly grab the hairbrush and run it through my hair, the wet strands falling limply on my back, and spurring me to snatch a rubber band and haul it into a high ponytail.

Nodding at my reflection, I buckle the boyfriend jeans tightly at my waist and zip down the black turtleneck blouse to show a bit of cleavage, and put my thumbs into the space provided for it by the long arms.