every ugly word - doris gardner

493 21 13
                                    

Trigger warnings: Self harm, mention of pills/drugs (not the ones that Harry actually uses, only "normal" ones)

Word count: 1198
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"Don't be jealous because I found inspiration and you can't fucking play!"

It all started as small arguments. You had said too much and your dad got angry. Rightfully so. It was understandable. But, it got worse. You didn't feel safe when he was around. You never knew what could make him angry, so you didn't say anything. You just kept quiet, until today. You could only take so much before you broke.

There you were, tears running down your cheeks as you held your guitar in the living room. You really tried to be perfect. Tried to be good enough for your father. But you weren't.

You could see that your father regretted what he said. Or maybe he just regretted that he said it in front of your mother.

"Honey, I'm sorry..." He started apologizing. You started to quickly walk towards the stairs. "Honey, honey. I'm so sorry." You didn't stop. Didn't listen. You knew he wasn't sorry.

"What the fuck, Harry?" You heard your mother's raised voice as you walked upstairs to your room.

"I'm sorry. That was crazy. I — I'm not myself." Maybe because you're on fucking drugs. "Look, I just need to finish this. It's amazing, look."

"Harry... Did you even hear what you just said to our daughter?"

"I apologized."

Your mother opened her mouth but closed it again. She couldn't understand what he was thinking. "Harry, you just said that she couldn't play. You've said so many hurtful things and you think saying 'Sorry' is going to solve it?" She was shouting now. "Can't you see the effort she puts in? She spends her whole days trying to impress you!"

"Why can't you just support me?" Harry was shouting just as loud as Doris. She was done with this. She knew he had taken something and being this riled up wasn't good for her, the baby or you. She looked at him with angry eyes before she walked upstairs.

"Sweetheart?" Your mother asked you as she knocked on your bedroom door. You didn't answer. You couldn't answer. Your sobs wouldn't allow you to. She opened the door and came over to you, seeing you on the bed almost hyperventilating into the pillow. She sat down. She noticed your arm, seeing angry, white and red scars. Her eyes soften and her brows furrow sadly. But you needed her, so she grabbed you. "Come here, baby." She whispers, her voice sad, pulling you into her arms, being careful with her bump. You pull her in closer, your heart beating hard in your chest as you cuddle into her, hearing her and the baby's heartbeats beating as loud as yours. You sigh, trying to get the lump out of your throat. It doesn't work. By the second try, you had tears in your eyes. You try to blink them away. By your third try, you're sobbing even harder, feeling your mother's arms squeeze around you as you cried.

Dori's stomach knotted as she held you. She closed her eyes.

"I'm so tired." You gasp out between sobs.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." Your mother kissed your forehead. It all made sense now; How you always wore long sleeves, how you always seemed so sad and how you weren't the goofy, happy teenager you used to be.

She gently rolls up your sleeve more, you don't notice, you're too focused on trying to breathe. You only notice when you feel something wet on your shoulder and when you feel your mother gently rubbing your wrist. You look up at her, seeing the tears in her eyes and you try to pull your arm away but she doesn't let you. You just stare at her, panicking. You suddenly remember how to breathe and you're very aware of it. Doris looks at you with uncertainty in her eyes. She doesn't really know what to say. "Talk to me, baby." She says quietly, gently rubbing your wrists. You look down. "I don't know what to say." Your voice is thick, it almost catches in your throat. You just wanted to disappear at that moment.

"How old are these?"

"About a week..." You physically cringe as you say it.

"Have you done it anywhere else?" You look down at her fingers as she's still rubbing soothing circles on your skin. She waits for you patently. She understands how hard this is. She knows how hard it is. You nod shamefully. You felt so terribly ashamed. Ashamed that she had found out. That you weren't more careful. You also feel so incredibly guilty. You're so stupid.

"Where?" Her voice is so soft.

"My thighs." You whisper. Doris blinks her tears away before putting two fingers under your chin, bringing your face up, looking at you with so much love. She wants to tell you that it's all going to be okay, but she knows that's not how it works, but she so badly wants to.

"You know I'm always here for you. Right, baby?" Your mother whispered, stroking your hair. You nodded. You didn't want to talk. Even if you tried, you knew your voice would fail you and you would just start crying again. Your mother held you. Not pressuring you, not asking unnecessary questions. She was just there for you.

"Why haven't you come to me?"

"I didn't want to burden you." Your voice was wavering.

"Sweetheart... you are not a burden. You can always come to me, especially when you feel like hurting yourself."

"I feel so stupid. Why is dad like this? He's never like this to me." You say sadly, rubbing circles on your mother's bump. You were so excited for your sister to arrive.

"You are not stupid." She says sternly. "I know he feels terrible about that, and he should. I'm so sorry he said that to you. You're so talented, baby."

"I'm not." You mumble. "I'm not good enough for him." Tears make their way to your eyes again and you sigh. You don't want to cry.

"You're more than good enough. You're so perfect in my eyes."

"Do you... Do you think if I took those pills I would be better?" You look up at her, seeing the concern all over her face. "There's no pill for greatness, sweetheart. They won't solve anything. I don't want you to think about that anymore, okay?" You nod, snuggling into your mother.

"I want you to know that you're not alone." Your mother says quietly. She exhales. "I know exactly how you feel." You look up at her again and she smiles sadly.

"What do you mean?" Only then you notice the faint, white scars on her arm. How have you never seen them before?

"I know how hard life is and it's okay to not be okay, but you never ever have to hurt. I'm here for you, always." You hugged her tighter, tears of relief clouding your eyes.

"I'm going to talk to dad, okay? He won't treat you like this anymore, all right?" You nod. "No more hurting." Your mother whispers into your hair, holding you tighter and closing her eyes.

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