She broke my heart every single fucking day and she didn't even know it. It wasn't her fault and I knew that, of course I knew that. Evie couldn't help that she was stuck in a relationship with a beater bastard. I wanted her to break up with him so much but it wasn't that easy, if she uttered the words 'it's not you, it's me' she'd probably be killed. That thought broke my heart more than anything else in the world. It was so crazy; I knew that none of this was her fault or my fault, it was all Logan's fault but I was so full of anger. It wasn't specifically aimed towards anger but towards everybody, the whole wide world: Evie, Logan, Luke, Calum, Ashton, my parents and even myself. I sighed as I lay in bed, the thoughts moving through my mind like piercing bullets that just kept coming.
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The noise level in my house began to rise, I rolled over trying to cover my ears as I heard the yells and angry voices of my parents and I knew it was going to start again. It didn't sound like the worst thing ever, having parents that fight a lot but when it happened for hours every single day, it starts to drive you mad especially when you seem to be the main problem. They only started fighting when school became harder for me and I started focusing on other things, when I joined the band, when I started going to parties and when I would come home late, drunk and maybe stoned.
There was so much shit and it was making me crazy!
All I wanted was for my parents to smile at me once in a while and accept my choices, my future plans instead of thinking I was such a slob. I wanted Evie, completely. I dreamed of calling her my girlfriend, spending all of my time with her out in the open but instead my parents could barely stand the sight of me and I was Evie's illicit affair that could get her seriously hurt.
"Michael, get down here right now!" I closed my eyes at the sound of my father's voice and tried to prepare myself for whatever stupid shouts were about to come my way. I pulled on a Blink 182 shirt and a pair of jeans before walking down the stairs as slowly as I could get away with. "Michael!"
"I'm coming!" I yelled back with little effort as I walked into the kitchen where they were standing. My dad had his jaw clenched and my mum was leaning over the counter with her head in her hands. "What is it?" I asked without enthusiasm.
"You're school report came." My mum muttered quietly as her head emerged from her hands, the skin around her eyes was a pinkish colour showing me that she had been crying and like usual it was because of me.
I paled. "And what does it say?"
"Fail, fail, fail, fail and so on." My dad rumbled, anger clear I'm his voice.
"Does it really matter?" I gulped discretely.
"Of course it does!" My dad snapped rounding on me quickly and looking at me like I had a heavily contagious disease. "What will you do with your life if you have awful grades?!"
