Mated With Five Boys

Chapter 6: Evil Teenage Boy.

"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time.We are the ones we've been waiting for.We are the change that we seek."- Barack Obama

I laid in bed late that night thinking about Rose's words, about opening myself to people.

I don’t understand why I have such trouble letting people in.

I guess that's partly the reason I started writing in my journal because I didn’t trust anyone with my secrets.

And maybe that's because I don't want someone seeing me that vulnerable.

Maybe it's because I'm scared if I start Pouring myself out, I won't know how to stop.

Or maybe it's because I know everyone in my life is temporary, foster parents, friends, teachers, neighbors, and even family.

I remember going to school after my mother died, I was in the second grade, I told my best friend at the time about what had happened.

I still remember the tears that formed in her young eyes as she repeatedly told how sorry she was.

And even with me being that young, I decided then and there I wasn't going to tell anyone about my life, and so I didn't.

I didn't need people's apologies.

I didn't need people feeling sorry for me.

What I needed was my mom back.

The only person I ever told my thoughts to is long gone, and not coming back.

And I'm okay with that.

At least, that's what I had thought before now.

I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to sleep, but it felt like my brain was going 100 mph.

One sheep, two sheep, three shee- who the hell am I kidding? That's never going to work.

Groaning loudly, I grabbed the pillow that was resting next to me and covered my face with it.

Go to freaking sleep Mia.

I stared blankly up at my dark ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts.

My internal clock completely and totally screwed.

Especially since Colorado is two hours behind from New York, where I previously lived.

I closed my eyes for the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time, finally feeling the drowsiness seep into my body when suddenly my walls started shaking.

Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi started ringing in my ears from the room across from mine.

Axel's room.

Oh, C’mon! I sighed irritated.

Who plays music this late? I'll tell you who, evil teenage boys that's who.

Doesn't he understand how disrespectful that is? How would he like it if I blasted my music this late? I jumped out of my bed, whipping the covers off me in the process.

I marched over to my door, flinging it open.

this point, I was

does he think he is! Has he no respect? I stomped

have

so loud that

upon myself I wrapped my fingers around the

door slowly, peeking

courage I just had before

really want to wage war with

I shook my head agreeing with myself, It's time to take some initiative and stand up

Axel

strangely attractive monster but a

open the door fully, ready to give Axel a piece

"WOOAAAHH WE'RE HALFWAY THERE!"

had his hand balled into a fist, acting

LIVING ON

and started playing the

My

a completely different

fuck are you

me, turning off

swallowed hard, the smile on my face slowly

is he so angry every time he sees

done anything

Mia here's

he doesn't scare

"I-I just"

words, he

You've done blown it.

supposed to do? Talk to you with his

"Just forget it, leave."

me off, turning his

his voice that didn't sit right with

what I had to say was unimportant, as if I was

you to turn your music

up the little backbone I do

"Oh really?"

full pink lips formed into an

"Really."

nodded my head, feeling proud of

"No."

on his blaring music

do you mean

over to his stereo and turning the volume

"I mean no."

said in a "duh"

"It's too loud,"

I stated.

never play Living on a Prayer loud

dark brown

for

his bare, tanned

sleep with Bon Jovi over here

quickly and skillfully grabbed my hand that I had poked him

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