※ Apathetic ※ Dream×Reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN || IT'S OKAY

Previously...

But he won't come back.
I know that very well. Just a little too well. Sometimes I wish I didn't, it'd make everything so much less painful.

✶~~-∙•・✦✭~☆~✭✦・•∙-~~✶

TW: Strong language, violence, blood

I hugged the picture, holding it in my chest and gripping it firmly.
I cried silently. Holding out the picture and stroking the wooden frame. Tears streamed down my cheek, my eyes burned from crying so much.
I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater, letting out soft gasps.

"Pa, this is all my fault," I whispered, sobbing even louder. I wiped the glass of the picture frame, placing it gently on the table again.

A few impatient knocks sounded from the door, snapping me back to my senses.

I swung the door open, looking down and not bothering to check who was at my door.
"Y/N, finally," A grumpy voice snapped.

I looked up at the familiar voice. My eyes widened and my shoulders stiffened to ser ma in front of me.
Why? Why today?

"you should get faster on your feet," she continued, rolling her eyes.
Trying not to cry, I grabbed the doorknob and tried to close the door.

"Ah, not so fast. Mommy needs some money again." she cackled, holding the door open with her shoes.
She welcomed herself into my house, looking around and scoffing.
"So plain." she commented, kicking at ny carpet before sitting down on my couch.

"You aren't welcome here," I hissed, feeling my eyes burn with the urge to cry.

"Of course I am. This is my house!" She snapped.

"No, it's not." I retorted, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes.

"It might as well be. If you won't give me my money." she threatened.
"You don't deserve my money nor my house." I stated, voice cold.

"I really don't give a fuck, Y/N. Money."

"I don't have any for you."

Her eyes flashed with anger as she kicked me down with her heels.
I let out a yelp of surprise as I collapsed down.

"That's how much of a weakling you are, Y/N. I wonder how you managed to get your own father killed!" she spat.

My heart dropped with guilt. Tears threatened to spill out once more. I winced
in pain as I got up. I lifted my sweater to check.
Right above my waist, I saw a small bruise. Deep purple.

"You're absolutely disgusting, Y/N! A murderer!" she continued, kicking me once more on my thigh.
She brought a nearby chair above her head, smashing it down on me.

A loud crash followed with a wave a pain.
The chair had broken, littering the floor with splinters and wood.
I got up, shoving her against a wall, making ma slump down.

She was glaring up at me, but she clearly knew I would be fighting back.
She skittered up, slipping on her heels grabbed a painting hung on my walls.

She hesitantly brought it up to her head. Hesitating once more, she just crashed it down on the floor before sprinting for the doors.
She jambled it, struggling to open the door. She began panicking as I neared, tugging at the doorknob more aggressively.

She finally opened it, tripping on the steps as she tried running away. She turned her head towards me, smirking and letting out a snicker.
She opened her mouth to say something, but she ran into something. No, someone.