Abeyance

Chapter 1. Callie.

"All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream." ~Edgar Allan Poe.

Chapter 1. Callie.

I clawed at my pillow for dear life in a weak effort to muffle my sobs, praying for comfort that never came. I felt the heavy trails of mascara streaming down my flushed face as I took in a deep breath, unable to calm myself. The hot tears just kept flowing out, no matter all of my half hearted attempts to make them stop. As soon as I thought they were done, a new round took a hold of my body and the heartache just poured out of me. What's worse is that I don't even know why I'm crying.

Actually, no, that was a fucking lie and I knew it.

This whole ordeal is based solely on the dark, unholy feeling residing deep in the pit of my stomach, forcing itself into my mind and invading my thoughts. It is gripping my soul and squeezing until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of what I used to be, manifesting itself into something that I cannot control. I felt that, for the first time in my short life, I was completely and helplessly alone. No one can relate, though they try, I'll give them that. I feel as though I'm spiraling downwards into a black hole and nobody was there to catch me. Whoever is left is just watching, waiting as I fell and neared the dank, empty bottom where they can no longer hear my screams and pain.

They all went on uncaring, happily living their lives in peaceful, ignorant bliss and left me alone. Maybe it's easier this way, because, after all, what was my use to the world? It sure as hell doesn't do me any favors. It has taken everything that it possibly could from me and turned me into a total stranger whom even I don't care enough to get to know.

My stomach was knotted and churning, growing tighter with pain with each and every passing pessimistic thought that ran through my overworked brain. I sat up on my bed and drew my legs to my chest securely, trying hard to regain my composure. I rubbed my eyes with no effort and snorted at my pathetic state. If my father stuck around long enough to see this, he'd throw a fucking fit. Crying never solved anything, crying is for wimps. I just need to grow up and suck it up, because life is hard, and that's the end of it.

But, the thing is, he isn't here. He won't ever be, ever again, no matter how badly I wanted to take everything I ever said to and about him back. This is his home, how could he possibly have another life--another family? The thought alone was too hard to fathom. It doesn't work like that. It shouldn't. It's not fair.

What did we ever do that was so terrible? Sure, we had our issues, but who didn't? In the end, this small family of ours used to be about love above all else, and I always naively thought that that would be enough to keep us together. As it turns out that just isn't the case anymore for him. We just aren't enough anymore, and all of that love went away as if it meant nothing to any of us.

I can't be that horrible of a daughter, can I?

Maybe I'm just a burden, and maybe they'd all be better off without me. Whether that's true or not, I just couldn't do that to my mother, it would break her already shattered heart. She barely speaks to me or anyone anymore, and I just know that she is silently blaming me. Rightfully, I have to say. I mean, what else could it have been? It had to have been me that made him learn to hate and disassociated himself with everything in his life. I forced him into giving everything up so selfishly.

As much as I hated myself for all the mistakes of my past, I hated him even more. I hate him. I hate him so damn much. He is the reason I can't sleep, he's the reason my mom has no life in her eyes, he's the reason we had to move hundreds of miles and I had to change schools, again, just because she couldn't take the pain of living in that house that we used to share any longer. He ruined everything for us.