Breaking the Ice | ✍🏼

04. They Don't Understand

| Annalise Lauren |

"They Don't Understand"

No one understands the pain of having to sit in a apartment, while your parents are out trying to find another flight to somewhere else for the next fashion show, and your brother is out with god knows who. 

Glad to know that his brotherly love only extended to me for a day without our parents.

No one understands what it's like to stare at the same message from your supposed best friend's friend, who decided it would be best to forward a group chat that I hadn't been added too, so that they could bitch about me. 

No one would understand how crushing that really makes one feel. 

So, after the Christmas and New Year break, I would be searching for a new friend, that my own parent's couldn't buy me, because that was apparently what they did. But what they didn't know, was that this friend, had stolen every medal I had ever achieved. 

Every time I came back to my team, she ripped it off my neck, while no one was looking, and flaunted it in front of everyone. That was before she dropped ice skating for her boyfriend now of 1 year. 

One time, my mother saw it, and forced me to do the exact same she had done to me, but I couldn't, because I wouldn't do that to someone. I just wasn't the person my mother wanted to be. 

She saw that, the one time she came, and never came again. She wasn't even there when my captain jersey was ripped out of my own reach by that same friend, all because she objected it. 

The one time I won something over her, she grabbed it. She called me timid and shy, insulting me every way possible. She couldn't even congratulate me that day, so I don't understand why I didn't see this coming in the first place. 

Maybe I could move back into my old group that had my real best friend, Avery? She had always stuck up for me, but I was dragged away when she wasn't here. She had gone on a trip around some country for a year, and I never came back for her, because I thought she would come running back to me. 

"I'm back" Aiden shouted to god knows who, as he entered the apartment. Like he would care if I responded. "Anyone here?" yes, actually, but why would you care? you only have enough care for a day, so why does it matter today? 

"Ana? you here?" he opened my closed door, as I rushed to wipe my face that was now wet with tears I didn't know had trailed down my face. "What?" I questioned, pretending that I hadn't just read the most crushing sentence in my life. 

My lungs felt so small, waiting for him to say something back to me, but when he didn't, I was surprised. I was so used to be talked over, that this, this was a whole new personality. "I know" was all he said, making every word catch in my throat.

"I know what she did to you. I know everything she did" was all he had to say, before the stream burst down my cheeks. I was always told to never cry if I lost, or if I had fallen over on the ice. I was always told to hold it back; to hold everything back. 

"You don't understand!" as soon as Aiden was going to hug me, he stepped back as I shouted this. "No one understands what she did to me every single damn time" my voice returned to its quieter stammer. 

"Well help me understand. Make me understand what she did" Aiden couldn't help the anger that I knew was coursing through his veins slip into his tone. I hated every moment of this interaction. He was not supposed to be angry and overprotective. He has every chance to be that, but he hasn't. 

Not from our mother and definitely not from our father. 

"It's not worth your time" if I had looked close enough, his eyes would have shown every ounce of regret and guilt for a mere minuet. "It is" keep lying to yourself Aiden, keep doing that and see how it works out for you. 

I had nothing to say to him. I couldn't stop choking on my own sobs to find the words to tell him. I had already spoken my maximum to him, so I should probably shut my mouth now. "Could you write it out for me? I know your very good at English" just because I excelled in all of my classes, but English was always my best, didn't mean I had to write my pain to him. 

"To do what with it? burn it so that it takes my pain away?" I never should have spoken. I never should have read the message, Aiden never should have walked into my room. 

We just never should have been spending this time together. 

Because if we hadn't, then this would never have happened. Aiden would never have had to smash yet another vase, as he then sat down, blood pouring out of his hand, while I just sat there, watching him coat his gorgeously locks, that everyone adores, with blood. 

He just didn't understand, and I wasn't going to make him. 

---

For some stupid reason, I decided to stop tossing and turning in my bed, at 1am, to go over to my untouched bag, and pull out the two pieces of paper I had collected, but never read. 

I creeped back into bed, pulling the covers over my head, as I pulled out my phone and turned on the torch. With shaky hands, I opened the first one I had received at the ice skating rink. 

These notes had been a constant in the back of my head, but I pushed them away, hoping I wouldn't receive a third, and when I hadn't, I chose to open them.  

'He knows more than he tells you' 

Who was he and what did he know? Why did I choose to open this one first? 

'Only I know the truth about what happened to them' 

This was getting really scary. I turned both pieces of paper to check if there was anything else, seeing on the first one there was something really small written on it. 

'Don't tell anyone what you are doing and play my game. This is only just the start' 

I didn't want to start whatever this game was. I had no idea who he was or who this person was referring to themselves as, but I did know that I was terrified of what was going to happen to me if I continued with this scary game. 

I couldn't tell anyone, which made it worse. I mean that wouldn't be hard, but they didn't understand that this was scaring me, beyond my levels of fears, to the point where I was considering slipping into Aiden's warm bed. 

So, I did just that. I put the pieces of paper back in my bag, pretending I never saw them, as I made sure my curtains were closed tightly. I had read many crime books and seen plenty of murder mystery movies to know what to do. 

And that was to tell no one you were playing someone's game.

I just hoped that I could finally be the one to prove to my parents that I wasn't useless; that I didn't need them to understand who I was anymore. That I was maturing without my mother's guidance. 

They don't understand who I am. 

 ---

thoughts?