As I walked back home, the only thing I could think about was Ethan's confession.

And yes, I walked back home.

While most fashion-crazed teenagers found walking a big ordeal with six-inch high heels, I didn't, mostly because flip flops and shoes were the only kind of footwear I ever wore, so I actually enjoyed the 20-25 minute walk from the park to my home.

16. He was 16 when he started doing drugs. What did the poor 16 year old Ethan go through to make him take such desperate measures to feel happy?

My 14 year old brother, Ed and I grew up in a very protected environment.

My parents didn't spoil me, but they took care of me, they loved me. I was taught to follow my dreams along with the morals.

I tried to imagine my Mom and Dad standing on the sidelines while I went through something so hurtful that I'd end up turning to drugs for happiness.

I couldn't. It just wasn't possible. I knew for a fact that if I went through something even remotely bad, the first people to turn to would be my parents.

You're a lucky bitch Em.

I knew it though, I was one of the most luckiest bitches in the entire world, or so I thought.

Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking about Ethan even after I got home.

My house wasn't anything special. We lived in one of the quietest streets in the town, where most of our neighbours were retired couples who kept to themselves.

My house itself wasn't anything remarkable. We had a drawing room, a kitchen and two rooms on the first floor, my room and the gym on the second and the garage along with a punching bag underground.

While that might have sounded a lot more luxurious than apartments, it wasn't.

We'd specifically narrowed the width of the house to accommodate the huge garden with a bunch of plants while building it. (My Mom wants to do her best to reduce Global Warming)

Because of my Mom's drive against global warming, we had plants even inside the house, making the already congested-looking place seem smaller.

Since I couldn't stop thinking about what Ethan had told me, I did what I usually do whenever my mind fells disturbed.

After checking up on my brother, who was busily reading a book in his room, I headed downstairs to the garage.

Although I had a room on the second floor, the garage was my haven. Unlike most homes, our garage wasn't used for parking our cars, even though it was built for that very reason. My parents stopped parking their cars in the garage a few years after moving here, and at the same time, I started taking boxing classes, so we simply got a hook attached to the ceiling and put a punching bag to it.

The garage also contained other bits and pieces of me, like the pom poms I had used in my cheerleading phase, a couple of gymnastic mats ( I used to do gymnastics when I was 6), my swim suits, a few tennis racquets, a basketball ball and a bunch of bicycles.

Needless to say, my hobbies used to be very volatile, there was even a time in my life when I'd wanted to do ballet.

Boxing was the only hobby which lasted this long, I'd been boxing for the past 6-7 years, without wanting to start another sport.

My Dad being a sports enthusiast didn't mind my jumping from one thing to another.

Once I was inside the garage, I shut the door, locked it and switched on the light.

As the light flickered on, my eyes slowly took in the messines of the room.

Grinning, I pulled off my jacket and started taping my hands.

As tracks and huge shirts were my everyday-everywhere clothes, I didn't have to change before pulling on my gloves and assaulting the punching bag hanging in the middle of the room.

I even put on music for good measure.

I started slowly, almost gently tapping the bag, warming up my body before going full force on it.

It wasn't long before the gentleness gave way to my emotions.

Moving along with Panic At The Disco's Victorious, I swung my fists like I wanted to murder someone.

I went on like this for almost half an hour. Then my lungs gave in and I started panting.

Pausing for a moment, I held up my fists in front of my face in a defensive position.

I moved around an invisible enemy for a few brief moments, before swinging my right fist forward with as much strength as I could.

Bad idea.

I felt the pain all the way in my shoulder joint right after my fist made contact with the bag.

I withdrew, wincing.

" Fool". I muttered to myself. "There's a reason every smart sports trainer tells you not to overstrain yourself. But do you listen to them? No. And then you end up injuring yourself".

This was probably the 100th time I'd forced myself to do more than I should, which resulted in injuries.

Being overenthusiastic in sports meant injuries, at least for me. Injuries had become so common to me that people got surprised if I managed to go a month without screwing up some part of my body.

Pulling off my gloves, I went over to a bottle of water standing beside a chair.

Sighing, I sat myself down like a sack of potatoes before grabbing the water and gulping it down.

I always kept a bottle of water here.

I lifted the hem of my shirt and wiped my face and hands off the sweat pouring down.

There's a reason my mom called me a manner less monkey.

You should be studying you know? You already spent a lot of time in the park today. My conscious reminded me.

While I enjoyed sitting in a couple of classes, I absolutely detested studying for exams.

Especially if it came in the way of my sleep.

When I didn't have to study for exams, I used to go for practice after school and sleep the entire evening, but now, because of the exams, I was forced to stay up and study in the evenings.

Because of the exams coming up soon, my schedule went something like this-

5:30-WAKE UP

6:30-Physical training with coach Horry

8- Get ready for school, either at home or the dirty school restrooms.

8:30- School starts

3:30- School ends

3:30-5:30- Boxing classes with coach Preston.

After that, I used to normally come home and sleep. Now I either had to watch poor Ethan creepily or study.

My parents would've preferred if I just came home and studied.

Only, I just wasn't capable of sitting down to study, there were so many things I'd rather do than study, so all I ever managed to do was waste time.

The pain in my shoulder subsided little by little, until it was completely gone.

I rolled it once, just to make sure.

There was no pain.

Thanking my lucky stars ( not that I had many)  for not gifting me with another injury, I rose and put my gloves back on.

Maybe I'll try a couple of new techniques.

The pounding at the door interrupted my plans.

The only reason I even managed to hear the pounding was because of the brief pause in the music as the song changed.

I considered letting it go and opening the door later, but then I wasn't in the mood to start another fight with my brother.

Trying my best not to look irritated, I opened the door.

My brother stood outside, his entire face screwed up in annoyance at the delay in opening the door.

"Mom called on the landline, she wants to talk to you"

"Why didn't she call me on my phone?" I was too lazy to walk all the way up the stairs just to answer a phone call.

"Because you keep it on silent mode and then you blast music loudly. Mom must've called you a million times by now".

"Are you sure she called me?"

He huffed. "Just come up and talk to her, I'm in the middle of Star Wars".

He spun around and stomped up the stairs, showing me exactly how pissed off he was at me for making him come away from his movie just for the sake of a phone call.

"Just tell her I'll call her with my phone". I yelled, there was no way I was going to go upstairs only to come back down again. Also, my phone was right here and I might as well use it.

"Just come up will you? I'm not your messenger". He snapped right back.

"Ed, you don't want me to tell mom you're watching Star Wars when you're supposed to be doing homework, do you?".

There was a pause, then- "Fine! I'll tell her you'll call her, just don't tell her anything about Star Wars, alright?" He shouted.

"Thanks little brother, I know I can always count on you". I said, cheekily. I loved my brother, but I loved blackmailing him even more.

"I hate you you know that?" He asked me, sticking his face back 'round the stairs for a moment.

"Yeah, I heard that only humans are capable of loving me".

He snorted and walked off, acting a lot more mature than me.

My mom picked up her phone in the first half of the ring itself, and this was how the conversation went-

Me: Hey Mo-

Mom: Em, how many times do I have to tell you to not put your phone on silent mode? Do you know how hard it is to get some time away from the middle of a surgery just to call you? I called you 32 times and you still didn't answer, what were you doing? Why is it taking you so long to answer your phone? Ed said you came back late from school, did you spend all your time in the park again? Why're you going to the park so much? Your father and I both have night shifts so we won't be coming back home today, there's dinner in the fridge, heat it in the oven, don't use a metal container to heat it. Keep the front and back doors locked and the windows on the ground floor shut. Don't spend all your time in the garage, study a little bit at least, your exams are coming soon, you don't want to end up in a bad college, do you? We'll be home by around 11 tomorrow, I expect you and Ed to be in school by then. Buy some breakfast on the way to school tomorrow, I normally don't like you eating breakfast outside, it's very unhealthy, you never listen to me. And also, stay safe and study ok?

Me: Ok Mo-

Mom: Also, don't buy any unhealthy breakfast like pancakes, buy some eggs. Ok?

Me: Ok Mo-

Mom: Goodnight sweetheart, stay safe.

And then she ended the call.

Yeah, my mom can resemble a fright train sometimes.

My face slowly morphed into a huge smile.

They weren't coming back today, upstairs the sweet sound of Star Wars was beckoning me.

I still had to study, but I might as well take a break today, right? I mean, I did manage to get a headway with Ethan and my article today, and also my parents weren't coming home today, I might as well make use of a break from the arduous job of studying.

I'll study tomorrow. I told myself.

That's what you said yesterday. A pesky voice reminded me. I squashed it.

My smile widened.

Switching off both the music and the lights, I sprinted upstairs shouting "Ed, let's watch it from the beginning, I'll heat dinner and we can watch while eating".

Let's just say, I wasn't the most responsible kid in the world.

Author's note- Hey, the 5th part's up, please comment to let me know what you think, thanks😊

Ps:The song at the top is the song Em is listening to, in case you are curious.