meant to be yours | d.w

7

"Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell"

The white pure leather seats in Kristy's corvette were engulfed in the dark shadows. The only things that was clearly visible was the road in front of them, and Kristys clearly hardened face.

Her face was truly anything but pleasant in this moment. For her blonde hair was disheveled, looking completely all over the place as it blew in the wind. Sounds of cars honking could be heard in the distance, but it was a lot more faint at night. You see, the somewhat attempt of silence would be comforting if there wasn't an undeniable tension in the car.

"What am I gonna do with ya peach." Kristy murmured, keeping her eyes as blue as sapphires locked on the road in front of her.

She then made a sharp right turn a bit more aggressively.

"I really didn't want to worry you, honest." I defended. My eyes were stuck on her while she was doing quite the opposite.

All of a sudden, she pulled over onto the side of the road abruptly. She put me into a state of shock, unsure of what she was even doing. She then turned to me for the first time in minutes. I wasn't sure if I should be joyful and loosen up, or just put my guard up even more.

"I don't wanna sound like your mother, but you have to promise me you'll be more careful," My aunt stated firmly. "God knows what could've happened to you and a part of me doesn't even want to know how you got to that house."

"Of course," I began almost eagerly, ignoring the part about my mother. She only cared about what I did so that she could protect her reputation. "I'll do all the chores for a month, I'll take Will to daycare for as long as you need, I'll—"

"How did you get to that house." Kristy muttered.

I was taken aback by her sudden question, so confused that I didn't respond immediately.

"How did you get to that house." She repeated, her tone more firm and louder this time.

"I hitchhiked." I muttered, the lump in my throat only growing and growing.

Kristy put her face in the bare palms of her hands. I could feel my insides begin to churn, I despised that feeling of disappointment that people would give me. It makes me feel absolutely worthless, seeing that dreaded look on their faces.

I do whatever I can to avoid it.

"Rebecca..."

I knew it was over for me when she used my first name, she never does.

My aunt placed her hands back onto the steering wheel almost as if to steady herself.

"This is your last chance before I have to take more things away from you. I'm sorry, but you know I have to,"

I nodded, agreeing with every word she was saying.

"And to start, I have some requirements for you. You have to be on your best behavior or else they'll put you and Will in foster care."

Foster care. The one place I didn't want to be, I'd rather send Will to hell than that place. The horror stories I've heard about that system is bone chilling. It's fairly new, and they send kids off from home to home to avoid attachment issues. The chances of Will even being adopted are slim due to his mental illness, and I refuse to leave him alone and in the dark like that.

"What are the requirements?" I asked, nervous for my answer.

"First, I want you to get a job. I won't have you turning into a carbon copy of me, you deserve a better heads up than I did."