The Bad Girl's Good Side

Chapter 12: What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter 12:
What have I gotten myself into?

"Hailey!" I am suddenly engulfed in a bone crushing embrace. "Don't you dare go disappearing again!" A frantic Peyton scolds me like I am a tyke.

"We were worried sick, young lady!" Across the living room, my mother stands firm, eyebrows knitted together, lips tightly pouted with indignation, and with hands resting on her curvy hips. "How could you pull a stunt like that? You're more mature than this." Her eyebrows furrow further with anxiety held firm in frustration.

I mentally roll my eyes at my mother. "Sorry, mom." I grit out with a cheeky tone — I am still half-shaken with fury. "It won't happen again, I promise." This time, I manage to water down my hot temper.

"Obviously, it won't!" She throws her arms frantically. "It's your last night here, yet go off disappearing."

"I'm sorry," I apologise sincerely. I hate upsetting her or seeing her apprehensive. Even though these last few months were spent in tension and heated quarrels, the thought of watering down her spirit still hurts me. "I was being stupid." Not entirely.

I needed a breather; I would have fainted had I not escaped for those few hours.

"Yes, you were." Peyton is the one to comment. She's going to become a great mom someday.

"Where's Kaitlyn?" I ask when I don't see her after scanning the almost empty living room.

"Already left," Peyton frowns. "She's already on her flight to freedom." She heaves out a heavy sigh.

I'm quite disappointed to have missed her departure; if only had I not had an outburst and scurried off to the gym — although, again, it was required. And now, unfortunately, I missed the opportunity to wish her well on her new life.

"Is she disappointed that I wasn't here to say 'goodbye'?" I question with a frown.

Peyton shrugs. "I mean... she has no idea why you just left." She explains. "In fact, no one has." Her brows furrow with suspicion as she sends a piercing glare in my direction.

"She's correct," my mother interjects. "Where have you been? You missed your last party with your friends." She scolds me with an equally hardened glare.

"At the gym?" I reply sheepishly, with the answer being more of a question.

"The gym?" Mother reiterates my confession. "Of all places, the gym?"

"Can we... can we not do this now?" I plead with desperation. I wish not to travel the same worn out road again, that is only a recipe for suicide. "Rather, let's forget everything."

I pivot on my weary heels and trudge up the wooden stairs. My shoulders are heavily laden with exasperation; my arms hang limp with the thwarting lies still chaining my fading skeleton to a pillar of stagnation. And my legs feel as though they are about to crumble effortlessly beneath the flint of troubles.

Lord, help me.

After a couple of seconds, countless breaths of weariness, and loud, heavy treads, I reach the threshold of my room. I twist the knob and open the door to the last piece of slumber in my bed.