Project Adolescence

chapter 2 // faye

I walked my normal route down the street back home, pushing up the volume on my music. Our house was just like any other, farmhouse styled and white. We had a white picket fence outside that wrapped around the front opening at the driveway, my mother and I painted the wood while young.

It was a two story house, allowing me to call the attic my bedroom. It was simple and small, allowing a cozy feel to seep throughout it. I was grateful for what I had, how could I not be?

I turned the knob on the front door, hearing the collar shaking of my old golden retriever, Nova. I received Nova once I turned eight, a gift from my mother after my father passed. She saw that I needed something to pull me out of my room and surprised me one day as I came down for breakfast. For staying with me until my seventeenth birthday, she was holding up well.

My father died in a car accident on his way home from a business meeting, it was fatal on impact, creating a ruckus in the town. My father, Shawn, had a kind heart who always helped around the community. His passing was a great loss for everyone. He was my best friend, we did everything together. I didn't know how to take it after he passed, sending me into a full depression state that I never have seemed to get out of.

My mother, Orla, turned to drinking after he died. She didn't understand and left the church to binge on her addiction. We were living off of savings and the insurance policy that Shawn had in place, meaning she didn't have to get a job.

I never saw her outside of the house, she always cooped herself up into the living room, watching her movies with a wine bottle in hand. I scratched behind Nova's ears before placing a kiss atop her head.

"I'm home mom!" I yelled through the house, making sure she could hear.

"Obviously," she replied back from the living room, silencing herself afterwards.

My mother and I had an incredibly rocky relationship, especially after Shawn passed away. One minute she would pull me into a hug, kissing my forehead and the other she would wish that I was never born. I knew it was just the amount of liquid slipping into her prefrontal cortex, making it a cloudy sight.

I sighed and watched Nova as she trotted back to her bed in the kitchen, laying down on it. This meant that my greetings were done and I could retreat back to my bedroom. My legs pulled me up the row of stairs that were set in front of me. I pulled down the string that hung from the roof which let out my ladder.

My feet climbed it, pulling my body up with each movement. As I landed into my room, my eyes scanned it, making sure everything was still in order. My room was large due to being in the attic but it was nothing fancy.

There were vinyls and music posters plastered all over the place, half falling off in some places. The wooden panels that lined the walls and the flooring gave off a specific antique vibe to it. I had a black bed that sat on some pallet boards that I had painted flowers onto. My huge window that overlooked the backyard sat on one of the walls, next to my writing desk. My writing desk was an old wooden one, the type you would see in western movies.

My backpack slung off my shoulder as I tossed it onto one of the piles of clothes that lined my bedroom floor. I ripped out my earbuds and placed my phone onto the wooden desk before sinking down into it.

What a dreadful day.

My hands dug around my pockets, grabbing the blade's packaging and my almond joy. I placed them both in front of me, my eyes darting between both of them. I noticed my sacred notebook sat in front of me as well.

My fingers touched the rigged brown cover with flowers on it, flipping to the first page. I had made this notebook when I was eight, when my mind first started getting dark. My mental health had began declining from a young age but I never spoke about it.