*NOT EDITED*

Chapter 50

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"Come in," I called when a knock was heard across my room. I paused the YouTube video I was watching and sat up straight.

"Hey," Elyse's head poked behind the door and I noticed her eyes roaming my messy room, "do me a favor and clean up your room, honey."

I groaned. "Not now, please."

I felt like a child saying those words and protesting against cleaning my room, but I just felt really lazy and not in the mood.

Conspiracy theories by Shane Dawson seemed way more appealing than discovering the hidden treasure of garbage under my piles of clothes and other unknown stuff. 

"Do it as an early Mother's Day gift," she said with a sarcastic smile.

"Fine," I huffed. Closing my laptop, I stood up and stretched my limb arms, wincing when I felt the blood rushing to my toes. I think I spent a good four hours on the laptop instead of doing the argumentative essay I had due for tomorrow.

Elyse gave me an appreciative smile before leaving and closing the door behind her.

I looked around and sighed when I saw how much work I had to do. My eyes caught a hint of black under a big pile of clothes; it looked like a large, black teddy bear.  When I looked closer, I realized that that was actually my spinning chair. I thought Elyse had thrown it out since the screws were too loose, but apparently it was here all this time under my clothes.

Elyse was right; I should really start cleaning my room more often.

I set to work but not before playing my Spotify playlist. I started with the floor, picking up all the one-paired socks, chocolate or sweet wrappers, and other clothes.

Fifteen minutes later, I had moved on to my hairdresser. I tidied and organized the drawers, making sure that the socks, belts, underwear, hair ties, and accessories were in their assigned places in each drawer. In the last drawer, however, I saw the envelope I had stashed carelessly a month  ago. It was the letter Elyse gave me as my Christmas gift. 

Why hadn't I opened it earlier?

I took the envelope and sat down on my bed, the curiosity making me rip at the sealed envelope. Inside were two folded papers—an A4, normal sized paper, and a small piece of paper.

My eyes skimmed over the horrible, messy cursive handwriting on the paper.  I read the first few words and realized what this was.

I wrote this letter nine years ago.

Dear bieological parents,

I'm not mad that you gave me up for addoption. I'm happy that you did because now I'm with Elyse and dad.

Elyse is so fun and she always bakes apple pie for me. You probely don't know this, but I LOVE apple pie so much! They call me Ashie-pie.

I'm sorry I didn't write this earlier, but I was waiting for the rite moment when I'd be more proffesionall in writing. I've been practicing cursive and as you can see, I'm great at it!

I thoght it would be cool if I wrote to you a letter the way the way Disney girls do. And I wanted you to know that I'm completly fine and happy and give you an update on my life.

With all my love,

Ashie-pie :)

I was still giggling by the time I reread the last few lines. I remembered that when I had signed the paper, I thought I was more professional. The grammar and spelling was ridiculous, but it made it even cuter.

With a smile on my face, I folded the paper again and put it back in the drawer, safe under my undershirts.

Then, I took out the second, laminated paper that was about the size of my palm. I turned it around and realized it was an old Polaroid picture of a woman. The picture was worn out in a way that casted a yellowish filter across the photo, and the corners were faded out. The woman seemed to be in a museum or something of that sort judging by the setting.

She had long, cascading chestnut hair that reached midwaist and big, doe brown eyes. She was holding a ticket and seemed to be in a state of surprise when the picture was taken—she looked up with a startled expression.

The woman was my biological mom.

I felt a hint of sadness that I didn't get to know her. She seemed so beautiful and I was sure that she would've been a lovely person.

Elyse and dad once told me that both my biological parents had died from a terrorist attack with bombs. When I had written that letter at the age of eight, I obviously didn't understand the reasoning behind my biological parents' actions, but later on, I did; it wasn't their actions, it was just how life played out.

I smiled a sad smile and tucked in the picture back into the envelope, but something else fell out. It seemed to be a small card.

You grew up to be a beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman like your mother. I will always love you my Ashie-pie.

I felt my heart warm up when I read those words and tucked the envelope into my special box.

I exhaled tiredly as I finally flopped on the bed. When I first started my cleaning, I thought it was only going to take me thirty minutes at most.

Wrong.

It took me three hours to finally tidy my room, clean it, and make it smell good. I was pretty proud of myself—okay maybe a little too proud, hence thinking I deserved an award like a PCA or an Oscar—and decided to reward myself with a treat.

Humming a random tune, I skipped down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Cameron was there and raised her eyebrows when she saw me.

"Well, someone's in a happy mood tonight," she said with a chuckle, "how's cleaning your room?"

"To sum it up for you, the room somehow grew twice in area after I finished cleaning it. And I found my spinning chair," I added and opened the fridge.

I heard her laugh as my eyes looked for something to eat. I shrugged and settled down for the casserole Sarah did yesterday. I cut a cube-piece of it on my plate and stuck it in the microwave before starting the timer.

When the microwave pinged, I took out the plate and headed back up to my room.

I finished the whole thing in 5 minutes and sighed, satisfied with my full stomach. I put the empty, dirty plate on my hairdresser and stepped into the bathroom. It was getting late, and the exhaustion from cleaning the room was settling in.

I did my business on the toilet and washed my face thoroughly. I was about to brush my teeth when I remembered what Damon did to it. I shuddered in disgust and dropped it in the sink.

How was I supposed to brush my teeth now?

An idea popped in my head and I smirked deviously. Damon did a big mistake when he destroyed my toothbrush.

I spotted Damon's blue toothbrush beside mine and I took it with me downstairs. I made sure to hide it up my sleeve so no one would see it.

"Where are you going at this time?" Sarah asked me as I was about to open the front door.

"Emily was supposed to come here real fast to drop something off," I lied. She nodded and I stepped out the house, closing the door behind me.

I shivered as a cool breeze ran past my body, making goosebumps rise across my arms. I pulled at my sleeves as I walked to the house on our left.

Our neighbors had a loud, violent, big dog that would wake me up from my sleep at times. The first few days when we moved in here, every time I'd walk past the dog, he would bark up my butt until I stepped into our house.

I eyed the large, closed fence that separated the two houses, trying to find a way to get to the other side.

The only way to get through was to jump over the fence. The problem was that it reached my nose and the top was too sharp so even if I could climb over, the sharp edges would probably rip my pants.

I contemplated going back into the house and getting my revenge later, but decided against it. Better now than tomorrow. This was my chance.

I stepped back and looked around, trying to find a way that will help me. It was impossible. I sighed and leaned back against the fence—

I let out a yelp of surprise as I swung back against the fence. It was like a hidden door.

I fist-pumped the air and closed the door again. Trying not to make a sound, I tiptoed to the dog sleeping under his little house. Sure enough, behind it, there was the brown, disgusting substance—poop.

I smirked and lowered Damon's toothbrush. I dove it into the poop, making sure it was going to be completely useless later on.

After doing the job, I hurried back to our house, making sure that the fence was closed again. I couldn't hide the toothbrush this time, but luckily, no one was in the living room.

I hurried up the stairs and stepped into the bathroom. After rinsing the toothbrush inexhaustibly, I placed it back in the cup.

I felt kind of bad about what I did, though.

I guess I'll tell him about the poop after he uses the brush only once.

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Author's Note:

Hey, guys! As you probably noticed, I changed the title of this book to The Art Of Breaking Hearts. What do you think? I also changed the book cover and the book's description a little bit.

I've decided that I want to change the book's genre to Teen Fiction, but I want to do that when I reach #1 in Humor. I know, that's very hard and I'm #7 now, but that was my goal when I first started writing this book (I was #774 back then) and I plan on getting there.

I also have another big thing for this book,but I'm not supposed to tell you yet!