Beautiful Disaster
Chapter 36 Part II: Taylor's
POV
"There, your hair is done." Kerrie said to me, and I
looked in the mirror at how perfectly she braided it.
It was a good thing I had Kerrie as a friend, I was never able
to braid my own hair, even a simple one.
"You're the best, Ker." I said, before thanking
her.
"It's no problem, but I really should at least teach
you a three-stranded braid." she said, resting her hand on
her very tiny baby bump.
Kerrie went for another appointment, just a few days ago, after
she hit three months.
She learned that she'd already gained a good 15 pounds,
which actually was good.
It was cute to see how excited she'd become, especially
since her mom didn't kill her when she told her.
I raised an eyebrow at her, completely lost on what she was
speaking about.
"A regular, everyday braid, Taylor." she finished,
and I nodded, catching on.
I looked over past Kerrie at her wall clock, noticing the
time.
"Okay, I should really get going," I said, pulling
out my phone, and sending a text to Brett.
She smiled, and nodded. "I'll text you later! Have
fun." she winked, and I rolled my eyes.
I gave her a squeeze, before I walked out the door.
I waited a few minutes until Brett texted me back, letting me
know the back door was unlocked, and to just come inside.
I shrugged, stuffed my phone in my pocket before checking both
ways and walking across the street.
I made my way to the backyard, and carefully opened the back
door, closing it as quietly as I could behind me.
"Well she is, so maybe she could meet Taylor." I
heard Jordan say, from the kitchen.
I didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so instead,
I listened quietly as I walked into the living room.
"Did you finally tell her about your little marine
plan?" I heard Jordan then ask, leaving me puzzled.
Marine plan? What did he mean by that?
"I'm telling her later on tonight." Brett
replied, leaving my questions still unanswered.
"At least you decided to tell her now, and not when you
leave for boot camp in June." Jordan added in,
chuckling.
I heard Brett laugh briefly with him, before he spoke.
I didn't even hear what he had to say, though. Because
before he said a word, I was out the door.
I ran around back, knowing I made enough of a comotion for
somebody to come after me, and to the front yard.
Not even checking both ways, I ran across the street, to my
car.
I know I was extremely stupid for running, but I didn't
know what to do.
What would you do if you found out, unintentionally, that
you're own boyfriend, who you love and adore, will be
leaving you in a few months?
Well, usually, I'd find the nearest bathroom, and purge
away all my pain.
But I couldn't do that in Brett's own house, I needed
to go home for that!
I know I may be sounding extremely stupid for making it a big
deal, but that's just exactly what I am.
Stupid. A wh//e. A liar. And most importantly, a fat b//ch.
Being called every one of those names came flooding back to me,
and I thought not to even go back to Brett's house.
It's not like I deserved him anyway. He was popular, and
handsome, and athletic, and perfect.
I was just, a mess.
I felt my eyes sting as the tears in my eyes hit my eye liner
as I stopped at the red light.
I waited patiently, silently sobbing in the comfort of my car,
until the light turned green.
I began driving, not even noticing the swerving car running
through the red light.
That is, until it slammed into my side.
After that, I saw nothing but glass, rain, and red, and felt
nothing but blackness, and pain.
THE END.
Welp,
that's Beautiful Disaster, as of now. I'll be doing a
sequel (obviously). So I have to ask this, do you guys want it
now, or after a new story?
I'm tired of pretending to be
happy.
Im TIRED of
being excluded.
Im TIRED of
being the ugly friend.
Im TIRED of
being the girl who is never called pretty.
Im TIRED of
sucking in my stomach so I can look skinnier.
Im TIRED of
feeling lonely and not loved.
Im TIRED of
being a nobody.
Im TIRED of
never having a guy like me.
Im TIRED of
being the girl who everyone makes fun of.
Im TIRED of being
me
nmf/
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