(Unedited)
"You weren't here! You haven't been in a long time so stop trying to act like you were."
Willow grew up in a house with six brothers, one of them being her twin. She's grown up in a two bedroom apartment with an alcoholic mother who never...
"We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick."
...
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Silence was a foreign thing to Willow, a thing that was so rare around the DeLaCruz home that it was nothing more than an occasional wish - one that never actually came true. Until today that is, when everyone that usually occupied the apartment was busy, leaving only Willow behind to be a victim to her own dark mind.
You would think that someone like Willow, a person who lives a life full of constant chaos, never having a moment to truly sit back and relax or to relish in the calm, would be taking a time like this for granted, that she would be filled with delight as she used this time to be worry free and take care of herself for once. But no, she was too used to the madness that is her life that she became reliant on it. The chaos was a drug, one she used to distract herself from the deathly thoughts that plagued her mind whenever she was left to the silence, the very way they were eating her up right now.
Willow was laid down on the couch, eyes trained on an empty spot on the wall across from her while her ears strained to hear a sound, anything other than the voice in the back of her head whispering poisonous words to her. Her arm hung off the side of the couch, a cigarette in hand while her other hand sat on her stomach, playing with the hem of her tank top. She was tired, in a way. Not physically, but mentally. It was a familiar sensation, one she has had since she was eight when her life first began to crumble. The girl could remember the day it all happened, when the feeling first came to her after a single phone call. It appeared as a small hum in the back of her head that grew louder as time went on and began draining her more and more with each passing second, eventually turning into a storm filled with the loud banging of thunder that slowly drove her mad. It was like a forever lasting headache that she so desperately wished she could shake, but she couldn't, the banging in her head would continue to grow and act as a constant reminder of the day that tore the DeLaCruz family apart. Willow really didn't need a reminder of the events that one horrific day held, she could remember it as if it were only yesterday since she often relived the haunting memory in her nightmares.
Memories. Those were either cruel or blissful. You either cherished them or wished you were able to forget. For Willow there was no in between, it was one or the other. They brought you joy, or pain. She was lucky enough to have a chosen family that she got to make plenty of happy memories with, ones that she could look back on with a smile and tell joyful stories about. They gave her moments filled with nothing but love, peace, and the feeling of being blessed enough to have experienced them. But even with the help of her little family Willow still held a few memories that often made her feel as though she had been cursed, like she had done something wrong that made the universe believe she deserved to go through the pain those memories had forced upon her, and then continued to use those same moments to torture and taunt her over and over again. It made the girl question herself, the more she was forced to the relive the tragedies she has experienced in her short amount of life she begun to wonder how they were caused, if she was the reason they happened. Maybe if she had done something differently, whether it was a simple choice of words or a decision she had made, would things have been different than they were today? Could the accident have been avoided? Would her brothers have stayed or would they have still left? Could her mother have continued on sober or would she have fallen off the wagon anyway? Would Skyla still have been born? There were endless possibilities, countless 'What if's', but it didn't matter how many times she revisited the day in her head, she could never be sure of the outcome and what she could have done to prevent all that has happened.
