Until I Met You

17

TW's:
-Throwing up
-(Emotional) abuse
-Mentions panic attacks
-Overdose (not a suicide attempt)

Clay's POV

After the awful news of Drista not getting better, I had maybe even three panic attacks and it was just an hour after. The doctor had left after informing my mother and I was even more mad at her for not even caring. She didn't come out of her bed to comfort either me or my sister, she just thought about herself all the time. I hated her, I hated my mum more than anything in this world.

Drista tried comforting me, but she almost passed out by standing up and I forced her to leave me alone. I was quietly crying in my room as I grabbed the bottle of calming medication. I didn't care anymore, all those twelve pills didn't work today, I needed more. I needed to calm down.

I got extremely mad at my mum, I got this mad that I started hitting the wall. 'I HATE YOU, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE MOTHER HERE.'

My mum didn't even reply, she didn't stand up, she didn't come to help me. I grabbed the bottle with shaking hands after and I cried my eyes out when I took off the cap. I hated my life, I really did. I hated everything, I just really did. My mum never cared for me and let me do everything in the house, she made me mad. She made me furious.

I couldn't handle it anymore and I grabbed all the pills in the bottle. I needed more to calm down with, I really needed more. If those dumb twelve pills wouldn't calm me down, maybe those fifteen pills would. I grabbed my old water bottle in my bag and I opened my mouth to throw in all the pills.

I stuffed them all in my mouth and drank a lot of water to swallow them. It took me a few minutes to swallow them all and I sat against my bed on the ground. I hated my life so much, I really did.

I kept crying as I grabbed my notebook, seeing my own tears fall down on George's name. Would he have helped me if I screamed for help? Would he have cared for me and tried helping me take care of every single person in the house here?

'Clay?' I suddenly heard a voice. I looked up and noticed it was my mother's. I smiled really shortly and crawled up to go to her room. Maybe she was finally going to help me, maybe she would let me crawl next to her in bed, hugging me just as the old days. The days where my sister wasn't this sick, the days where she was a real mum for me.

I really just only hoped for her to close me in her arms, telling me it's going to be alright. Just as she did in the past when I would be sad or when I had a nightmare. How I would be hugged by my mum and dad, although they both left me. My dad really just left and my mum didn't care about me.

I stood up and walked to my mum's room, feeling extremely nauseous and stomach aches come up already. I walked into her room and I smiled shortly, hoping for her to open her arms for a hug, but no. She did something which made me so extremely mad.

'Can you get me some tea? Here, I have an old glass here.'

It took me a minute to realise what she just did and I got extremely mad, not just mad. No, extremely mad. I grabbed the glass and I threw it on the ground.

'YOU GO GET THE TEA YOURSELF, YOU DUMB BITCH.'

'Excuse me?'

'I'M BROKEN, MUM. YOU DON'T EVEN CARE.'

'I'm also having a hard time, be happy that you are able to get out of bed. You have nothing to complain about, I have a burnout and your sister is sick. You're healthy and happy.'

'Healthy and happy?' I repeated. 'HEALTHY AND HAPPY?'

'Yes, Clay. Don't act like you're such a poor guy, we are going through way harder times.'

'You're supposed to care for your daughter. Not me.'

'You're supposed to be a good son and care for your sick sister and sick mother.'

'No, I'm done. I'm completely done with it. I will not take any care of you anymore. If you want tea, you can go get it yourself. I don't care anymore, I hate you. You just left me alone just as dad did. You're nothing different from him.'

'That's too far, you know how much it hurts me that dad left us.'

'You did the same, you let me do everything in the house, you don't care about me. I had three panic attacks and you didn't even try to stand up to comfort me. You asked me for tea.'

'I would rather not have you in my room anymore.'

'That's good, because I don't want to be here either.'

I smashed the door behind me and I noticed how extremely nauseous I was again. I walked to the bathroom and I kneeled down in front of the toilet to make sure I would have something to throw up in. I started feeling really short of breath and my chest and stomach hurt a lot. It seemed like I was going to die.

I started hyperventilating within a few seconds after that and I knew I needed help. My sister couldn't take care of me in any way and my mum was mad. I knew my mum didn't help me just then either, but she would help me when I was dying right?

I crawled to my mum's room and opened the door. 'Mum, h-h-help.'

'Get out.'

'I'm d-dying, I-I took t-too m-many p-pills.'

'Call an ambulance.'

'H-help,' I whispered. 'N-no p-p-phone.'

I didn't take me long before I threw up and then it escalated even more.

'You're gross, you're now immediately going to clean that. I don't want this in my room, NOW.'

'I'm d-dying,' I whispered as I almost couldn't breathe anymore.

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