BEWARE: the writing in this is from when I was younger, and is extremely cringey and cliche. I advise you not to read this because the writing in this is no longer a representation of my writing, and I think reflects very poorly on me. Instead, I'd...
That's what I felt as I stood unmoving inside my house. Watching two guys in uniform dragging a body bag.
Faintly, I recognized a police man coming up to my side. Speaking. But I didn't hear a word he said. My eyes were glued to the body bag, and after a few seconds, I think the police man got the memo that I wasn't listening to him, and backed away slowly.
The world might've been ending around me, and I still wouldn't have noticed. And yet, I could feel my world crashing and burning around me.
I could feel it ending.
Was that it? Was this how my life was supposed to be? A series of catastrophes one after the other, each putting a crack into the small little universe called mine?
My dad was dead.
I didn't know what to feel. How to feel.
While I was too busy stuck in my own little world, I had refused to peek out of it for even a second to realize my dad's struggle. I was a bad daughter.
And yet...he did the same. I was just a way for him to let out all his anger and frustration. I was just a thing to be used.
How could I be a bad daughter when I wasn't even a daughter?
The thought sent a harsh blow to my ribcage. I wasn't a daughter anymore. I didn't have parents. I was an - an orphan.
I didn't have a family for a long time now, but at least my deadbeat dad's presence was somewhat of an illusion that forced me to continue to believe in family. But even he was gone now. And I had nothing to believe in anymore.
Nothing.
That's what I had. And that's what I felt.
»« »« »«
There was a hand on my shoulder. I looked up from where I was perched on the couch, and Owen held out a mug for me. I shook my head and turned my gaze back to my lap, my long locks sheltering my face.
I heard Owen sigh before taking a seat next to me. "Polly," he whispered, wrapping an arm around me. "I'm worried about you."
I said nothing.
"You need to eat," he stated, and I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head.
I shook my head. Right now, I didn't have the energy to do anything. Slowly, I slipped out of Owen's grip and lowered myself to lie on the couch, my knees tucked into my body. I buried my face into the only pillow on the furniture, and cringed at the familiar smell of my dad.
Alcoholic. Sick.
And yet, I didn't dare move. Maybe if I could smell him, I could convince myself for a few more minutes that he wasn't gone.
A small voice at the back of my mind asked me why I continued to hold onto him. And I ignored it. Because truthfully, I didn't know.
He hurt me. But he was the only constant thing in my life. But he hurt me.
Why, why, why?
Why did I stick to every toxic person in my life? Why did I feel like my heart was being ripped out of my chest when they were getting ready to leave me?
I sniffed, blinking past the onslaught of tears that threatened to escape my eyes.
It was me.
I let go of everything good in my life for all the bad things. And it was nothing but a me problem.
"At least drink this," I heard Owen say.
And this time, I didn't ignore him. I took the hot chocolate and I drank it all down greedily.
Because Owen was good. And I was done turning down all the good things in life.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Woop, woop, look at me go! Another update right after the last one! This was a short chapter, so I decided to get it done and over with right now. Also, I changed the title. Is it good? I'm still kinda doubting it but I was cringing at UBB so... Have a lovely evening!
