The Other Hailey

23| knight in shining armor

As a child, I messed up a lot.

Maybe that's only natural for a child, but I, Hailey Marshall was on a whole other level of destructive. While other kids broke eggs, and utensils in the kitchen, I chased our dog with a knife. While other kids played dress-up in their mom's closet, I threw my mom's heels into the dishwasher. Like I said, I was invisible for the entirety of my childhood; it gave me freedom to perform whatever experiments I wanted with household equipment. And that's because Olivia took up all of my parent's attention, leaving me unwatched most of the time.

However, my mother was always there with me.

When I had my first fist fight and got called to the principal's office in second grade, she was there. When I accidently put perfume into my mouth, thinking it would serve as a mouth spray, she was there. When I scraped my knees during my bike lessons, she was there. And she saved me. She was the best. She was loving, calm, and sweet. Noticing how impulsive I could be, she helped train me, and taught me so many things to prevent future mistakes. She succeeded in turning me into a great woman. But as soon as she left, I fell down the drain— I went back to my self sabotaging bullshit.

Look at me now.

"What's wrong with the way you look?"

Dean's voice makes my heart skip a beat.

"Huh?" My eyes reflect confusion as I watch him standing in front of me. "Did I say all of that out loud?"

"What do you mean?" The light from the dark sky lets me see the confused look on his face. At a night like this, his hair looks even darker and silkier, and they cast shadows around his eyes and chin. Combined with his dark clothes, he looks like a villain who just stepped out of a comic book. Roving my eyes around his face, I notice he's wearing his dark rimmed glasses.

I nearly comment at the sight of the blind bat.

I then shake my head, forcing myself to crash back into reality. I slowly observe my surroundings. It takes a moment for me to realize that the motorcycle has come to a stop. Dean has already hopped off the vehicle, and I hadn't noticed. I look down at myself to find my palms placed flat on the bike's seat for support. From the corner of my eyes, I see Dean's veiny hands on the handle, keeping the bike in place. I better get off quick, before I fall.

Flipping my head around, I scan the environment: a playground. My eyebrows furrow, repulsed by the sight.

"Aren't you going to get down?" He asks me.

His tone ignites something in me. "Yes, I was going to get down a second ago, but then I realized you brought me to a playground." I squint my eyes at him. "Do I look seven?"

Dean's eyes widen a bit, and then he scoffs. "That's funny, because I clearly remember you saying in a panicked, very desperate, breathless voice to take you wherever I was going."

I eye him, moving around to get off his motorcycle. "Still, I didn't think you would come here of all places. I didn't ask to run away with a seven year old, so I'm sorry if I'm a little shocked we ended up here." My feet hurts as they meet the ground. "How am I supposed to sleep here until morning? How annoying."

"Then why are you here, feeding me with complains? You have a huge motherfucking house with lots of rooms. It is ten times better than wherever I could take you to. Why don't you just go?" His jaw clenches, and his eyes reflect anger through his lenses. But when they stare at me after seconds, they soften. "To think about it, we shouldn't even be speaking to each other after what happened. We broke up, remember?"