My feet hurts against the bricks as I walk furiously away from the engagement center. I grip the pair of black heels tightly in my fists with my head down.
The whole engagement party and the after math of Jake's confession on stage has been a blow to my face.
Could I hate Mr. Hill anymore?
At this point, he isn't the only problem; it also includes every other person related to him.
Minutes of walking away from the main hall, I still haven't gotten to the exit. Most invitees who are just arriving give me weird looks as to why a young girl is walking briskly with smeared mascara.
I shouldn't have put on make-up if I knew I was going to cry.
I knew this was going to happen. My mum would lose her contract, once Mr. Hill thought I was the reason his son rebelled against his decisions.
It disgusts me to think of his last statement:
"So you're the thing
