Yours Truly ❁ n.k.h

• chapter twenty one •

My first night back home was rough. Dozens of thoughts were swirling my mind, from my mom to Angel to what it felt like to sleep next to Dinah again. I couldn't find a moment of peace. Every time I closed my eyes, a different voice was in my head.

You think you can just do the things you do and people are supposed to just pretend it didn't happen and love you again?

Look, a lot has happened with her while you were gone.

Are you still gonna be here? When I wake up?

I pulled the covers back, shifting from beside Dinah as quietly as I could. Laying next to her was just as hard as ignoring the replays of previous conversations. I couldn't kiss her, or hold her, or even just maintain this level of closeness that I was used to. We were just strangers in the same room.

I hated it.

I opened the door and walked out into the dark hallway towards the living room. Angel was still asleep and I'm sure it was some odd time in the morning.

I got the idea to write since I couldn't sleep but my jacket was somewhere on the counter and I couldn't see.

It took a while, but my hands finally patted over the material. I flipped it until I found the pocket with my papers and a pen. I turned the lights on and brought it over to the couch to take a seat.

My pages were tough and tattered but still enough to write something legible. I reached an empty one (or at least the back of one) and began to write.

I guess this is your chance to get in my head before I can physically open up to you.

Yesterday before I got here, I spoke to my mom. I'm not gonna lie, I didn't want to come home. Not because of you, or at least not totally. But because I wasn't ready to face you. And knowing what I know now, I still think that I was right.

There's still so much to wrap my head around after all that you said to me earlier. Now that you told me about Angel, I'm starting to see what you were saying, but if you didn't tell me I wouldn't have guessed. Maybe I caught her on a good day.

I also can't help but think that maybe most of her problems are just regular kid shit that they're misdiagnosing as being apart of this brain trauma shit. All kids have horrible attention spans and don't really pay attention to long sentences and throw tantrums. I don't think it's inherently apart of her trauma from the accident, but I might be wrong. I don't know.

Anyway, I mentioned my mom, right? She bugged out on me yesterday (like I expected her to, you know her) for calling out of the blue to ask if I could come see them. And then told me, "Oh, your grandmother doesn't want to see you or speak to you."

I didn't know how to take that - I honestly still don't. I'm not saying I'm the closest person ever to my grandma or anything, but for as long as I've lived, no matter what I did, she never turned me away. But now this happens and it's like it's enough to vanish me from her world forever.

I don't know how to feel about it. Or at least I think I feel something but it's a mixture of things. Angry. Hurt. Disposable. But that's it.