𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛?
Being a risk taker.
Ergo, not being afraid to jump out of my bedroom window because I am currently trying to evade the BMW five series parked outside of my house which of course, and to my total and utter dismay, belongs to a certain streetfighter that is too stubborn for his own good.
I didn't actually think he would pick me up for my work shift, so when I looked outside my bedroom window after taking a completely involuntary three hour nap after school, you can only imagine how shocked I was to find that sexy thing parked in my front garden. And yes, I'm talking about the car.
He hasn't come out yet, but I'm scared that if I'm half way down the drive and he sees me, I'll be dead, and no that doesn't mean I'm scared of him exactly, I'm just scared of his...car?
Same thing anyways. Men seem to really overly love their cars.
I got about as far as sticking my leg out of my window and then realised that I would probably die if I jumped that far. It looks to be about... yeah I've never really been that good at maths. I'll just say a long enough distance for me to break my neck. And that is something I'm not entirely ready for just yet.
My house doesn't even have one of those gutter pipes that I can heroically slide down either. Well, not anywhere near my bedroom window anyway. There is just blank brick which makes way to a lovely slab of thick gravel. I wonder how much that will soften the blow.
I decide it's probably better to leave through the front door because I would rather not die right now. I have things to do, preferably like sleep but my job is calling which is on my list of top priorities right now considering the fact that since Adam told me all about our unfortunate financial circumstances, I haven't been able to escape the sorrow in his eyes.
And when did I suddenly become a poet?
I pull my leg back in from where it sits perched on the windowsill, and straighten my now slightly creased black trousers. At this point I'm not entirely fussed if I look like a tramp going to work. I'm too busy with worrying about evading a goddamn car. Hell, there could be anyone in there for all I know. I shouldn't assume that he is here to pick me up.
Plus, it's not like he can force me to get into the car. I'm an eighteen year old woman who can independently walk to work.
Yeah, if yesterday was anything to go by.
I could have easily fought that shitface off me yesterday, but for now I'll just blame it on how tired I was.
The memory is still fresh in my mind when a knock sounds on my bedroom door. It's been weird lately. I feel like I've been in my mind more than in reality, and then something so ordinary like a knock on the bedroom door makes me aware of the fact that I have actual shit to do other than just standing at my bedroom window like I'm waiting for some fucking miracle to happen.
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𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿
RomanceSofia had spent the better part of all her life fighting her own battles, putting up with the bullshit of everyone else and becoming the person that everyone dislikes. Hard headed, strong willed and as stubborn as a door handle. She didn't know the...