Bullied (Bullied Series #1) (SAMPLE)

Chapter 1

Present

A slight breeze cooled my heated face under the setting sun as my feet hit the pavement. The warm August evening was perfect for running. I'd started running only this summer, but I was already addicted to it. It helped me clear my head, root out the negative feelings, and prepare for what was yet to come.

I lived in Enfield, Connecticut's suburban area, which was a calm, beautiful neighborhood. The oak trees cast lovely shadows over the tree-lined streets during the day, and it was a breathtaking view worthy of a postcard.

The ubiquitous sounds of children playing in neighboring yards filled the streets, mixing with the sounds of Linkin Park's "Breaking the Habit," which blasted from my earbuds as I ran. I increased my speed, spurred on by satisfaction that I'd covered around six miles today. It was extraordinary compared to my first run, because back then, I could barely endure two whole minutes without a break.

These days, Enfield was more peaceful than usual since people were on their summer vacations. As a matter of fact, the whole summer had been perfect. I could do whatever I wanted, using my free time to work on my drawings and make some old ideas come true. I'd spent more time on my art accounts on Tumblr, YouTube, and Instagram, and I'd managed to gain more followers.

People actually liked my art, and they encouraged me to keep drawing. They were a huge support, which had felt rather strange in the beginning. At that time, I'd doubted their praise was honest, since I was called stupid, incompetent, and unworthy all the time. It took me a lot of time to get used to the fact that I really had some value and talent.

For the first time after many years, I could feel pure happiness and forget my misery. I'd started my first part-time job in the Raymond retirement home, there was no school—or Hellhole as I called it—and I didn't have to see any horrible people I saw each day in East Willow High.

The best of all: it was my first summer without Hayden.

Two years had passed since the night Kayden died. I missed my best friend so much it hurt, unable to get away from the dull pain that pervaded my chest each time I thought about him. Half of me had died with him that night, while the other half had been left to bleed, suffering Hayden's constant torment. He blamed me for Kayden's death, and he'd made my life a living hell.

Hayden had been my bully from the first day I saw him three years ago, coloring my grayish world into darker shades of pain with his hatred, but his constant bullying reached a whole new level after Kayden's death. He'd spiraled down a twisted path of destruction and insanity, dedicating his days to turning me into a helpless being with no hope or strength to keep going. I'd thought it would never end.

So, when I heard Hayden was going away to summer football camp for the whole summer, it felt like a dream. I'd literally spent the whole day crying from happiness.

It hadn't been a prank. Nobody had messed with me. Hayden went away, and I had the whole summer for myself, away from my bully who was—oh, the irony—my next-door neighbor. There wasn't even a fence between our yards, which proved yet again how cruel life was.

The only thing I didn't like about summer was that it had passed too quickly. There was only a week left until the beginning of my senior year, and I already felt anxious and terrified of going back.

I had one more week until I had to see Hayden again. I didn't know how he would react when he saw me, but whatever his reaction might be, I was done for, because I was sure he still remembered our last incident the last day of junior year.