Finding my Santa Fe

Destin,Florida?!

Taylor's POV:

"Get out." I threw the thin white hospitable blanket over my head.

"You see Taylor? This is why I don't let you go out, why you don't have a phone, this is my I don't trust you with anything!", my mother yelled at me from the side of the bed.

I don't it, I have never done anything bad, I didn't get hit by a car on purpose, does she not notice that? I have never ran away from home, I have never had a phone, I never did something to lose her trust. So why doesn't she trust me? I have no idea.

" I can't believe you would do this to me, you know how hard it's been since your father passed away."

I couldn't take it anymore, " MOM, YOU THINK I GOT HIT BY A CAR ON PURPOSE?! YOU THINK I WANTED TO GET PUT IN THE HOSPITABLE?! YOU GOT MAD AT ME BECAUSE I REFUSED TO EAT A GODIVA CHOCOLATE!" I screamed at my mother.

My mom started to tear up, " YOU SAID....." she took a breath, "you were craving chocolate, then I handed you one of your father's chocolates, and you swatted it out of my hand, and said you never wanted to eat another one again. You were hitting your father out of your life."

"NO I WASN'T, HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT THAT IT IS TO HARD TO EAT SOMETHING THAT USE TO BE YOUR FATHER'S LIFE? IT WAS TO HARD TO LOOK AT SOMETHING THAT ONLY BRINGS BACK MEMORIES OF YOUR DEAD FATHER?"

At this point I was crying and my heart was pounding through my chest. I have never told my mother how I really felt about things. And the worst part was that I had only just told her about 3% of how I feel about things.

Suddenly a nurse came running in and started pumping something and I started to get tired and I laid down and went to sleep, and the last thing I saw was my mother crying running out of the room.

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It has been a month since the accident, and I have been going to physical therapy every Wednesday because apparently my leg was worse than they thought. I haven't talked to my mom much. She has tried talking to me, but I refuse to talk to her.

She took my car away, well actually she gave it away, for no reason, but apparently I lost all her trust. She wouldn't let me do anything, I looked absolutely pathetic at school. I have no idea what I did to "lose her trust", and I'm sick of it.

It was only 3 weeks until summer, and I'm planning on running away. Probably won't work, but I am trying anything. 

And it's not like I can spend the summer at someone's house during the summer, because I have only one friend at school, and mom won't let me sleepover because she says, something bad could happen.

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The first week of summer officially started and my mom called me down to the kitchen. We sat down at the little table and my mom had her finger intertwined and on top the table.

"We have something to discuss Taylor."

"Ok" I said, that was the first thing I have actually spoke to her since the accident.

"This summer, you are going to live with your Aunt."

"WHAT?" I didn't even know I had an aunt that lived in Florida.

"You are going to live with her for the whole summer, she lives in Destin, Florida and she has a little condo on the beach."

"Wait, this is not fair! What did I do to deserve this?" I stood up from the table.

"You no longer have my trust and I think it is best for both of us if......" She started to tear up, "if we don't see each other for a while and cool off."

"Oh", I said quietly, but I quickly snapped back at her, "well what are you going to do then?"

" I am going to Virginia and working with someone that can.. help me."

"Well, when do I have to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"TOMORROW?!" I screamed, I ran to my room and slammed the door and fell on my bed and started, I have never met my aunt, and now I'm going to live with her for three months.

I couldn't do this anymore, my life sucked, my mom took everything away from me, when I have never done anything to her, I am a good student, I have never been to a girl boy party, I have never had a phone, and I had never gone to a sleepover.

I ran to the bathroom, I grabbed my razor and looked at it and started to cry, I have never cut before, but maybe it would help. I brought it to my arm and saw the picture of my dad on my bathroom sink.

I cried even harder, "I'm sorry daddy."

I closed my eyes and let the blade cut my skin, I didn't even go that far down my arms, I barely got to the bottom of my wrist, and I dropped the razor and fell and cried on the cold tile floor of my bathroom.

"I am sorry dad, I really am, please forgive me," I whisper as I lay on the floor of the bathroom.

I eventually got up and cleaned my tiny cuts, that hurt like hell and bandaged them, I got on my knees and got the suitcase from under my bed and started to pack my clothes, for Destin.