1. Glade Candles

She was walking down the sidewalk, minding her own business, listening to her favorite band; Green Day. The world didn't exist at that moment and that's how she liked it. She stared blankly at the floor as she walked in front of buildings, paying close attention to the lyrics she related her messed up life to. She would glance up every once and while. She'd see love sick couples, holding hands, sticking their tongues down each other throats. She scoffed. She wasn't one to fall in love. She couldn't even find a boy worth her time. And anyways, love doesn't exist. If it did, her life wouldn't be so screwed up. Her mother would smile when she saw her and give her a hug. Her dad wouldn't have left her. She'd have friends. But no, love mustn't exist, because no one around her ever showed it.

She walked by a park and raised the volume of her music to ignore the constant barking of the little dogs who figured they could take on a dragon. She stopped next to a bench and stared at her ipod with her blazing blue eyes. Her least favorite song had come up on shuffle and she didn't even know why she still kept it. She was so engrossed in her ipod, looking for the right song, that she didn't hear the yell of a boy. A second later, she felt something hit the back of her head and she stumbled forward. She fell on her knees as she shook her head. She saw things double and standing in front of her, were some boys.

Her vision eventually cleared and she stood corrected. It was just one boy. He was tall. He had a mop of unruly black hair and deep green eyes.

"I am so sorry," he said, as he extended his hand to help her up. She swatted it away and stood up on her own. She pulled out her earphones and narrowed her eyes at the boy.

"I tried to warn you, but I guess you didn't hear me," he said, gesturing towards the earphones she held in her hands.

"Whatever," she mumbled as she began to walk away.

"Wait," the boy said, grabbing hold of her arm. She snapped her head towards him, clearly not happy of the physical contact. She pulled her arm free and the boy raised his hands in surrender.

"Let me at least make it up to you," he said. She just laughed.

"No thanks. I think I'm good," she said. She gave a lazy solute and left. Why did guys always think they could sweet talk any girl? She went out of her way to dress up extra "bad" to scare them off, since she wanted nothing to do with them. Boys usually steered clear of a girl wearing combat boots and heavy eye liner. And it wasn't like she needed them anyways. She could very well live without them. She played her music again and made her way up some stairs in a building only a few blocks away from the park. She pulled out her keys and threw the door open. The stench of cigarettes hit her nose and she wanted to gag. She called out for her mom, but she wasn't home. Figures.

As she made her way to her room, she opened every window the apartment had. She always had a small stash of glade candles and she lit one up in every room, filling the apartment with the sweet smell of lavender and vanilla. She grabbed the broom and swept up all the cigarette ashes and cigarettes buds, along with bottle tops and beer cans. She didn't even care about her mother anymore.

Every night, she saw her mother kill herself more and more with every bottle of wine, every beer can and every cigarette. She'd tried day after day to get her to stop, but her mom had made it clear she wasn't giving it up any time soon. Fine she thought. Kill yourself for all I care.

After her daily duties of picking up after her mother were done, she kicked off her boots, pulled off her jacket and slumped into the couch, pulling her feet up onto the coffee table. She grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels for something even remotely interesting, but there was nothing. So, she closed her eyes and clicked on a random channel. A stupid romantic movie came on, The Notebook. So full of love it made her want to hurl. She shut the TV off and chucked the remote. As it hit the other couch, she stretched out and lay down, her body melting into the sofa. She plugged in her headphones, blasted the music, placed her arms under head and closed her eyes. Letting all her anger just drown out with her music.

Thalia jumped up as she heard the faint sound of a slamming door through her headphones. She pulled them off and heard the fridge open and close. She stood up and walked towards the kitchen to see her mother sitting at the small island with a beer can in her hand. She popped it open and started chugging it down, ignoring the fact her daughter was only a few feet away from her. Thalia looked at her mother. The mascara of her left eye was across her cheek and she was wearing a skimpy light pink dress with a black leather jacket covering the girly lace in the front. Her black hair was pulled up into the messiest bun ever and her lipstick was smeared.

"Mom?" Thalia called softly, but her mother made no notice of her.

"Mom," Thalia called again, a little firmer. Her mother snapped her eyes at her.

"Look at that hair," she said, a look of disgust in her eyes as she looked at the messy black hair on Thalia's head. "I should cut it all off. See if you can take care of it better when you don't have it." Anger boiled inside Thalia's stomach, but instead of lashing out at her mother like most kids did, she slipped her boots on, grabbed her headphones and left the apartment.

Please tell me what you guys think of it and if it gets good enough feedback, I'll continue it :) Thanks.