unconditional

chapter fourty four

TW: Discussion on Alcohol Addiction.

We arrive at my apartment, at last. Victoria decided to go with Daniel to Lando's place, which meant me and Charles got to drive home together.

"Do you want me to come over later?" Charles asks as he gets my suitcase out of the car.

"Yes, but I promise you, I'm fine" I assure him as I look at his worried face.

"Please just don't read any more comments, ignore them my love" Charles says as he walks over to me, wrapping his arms around me.

"I will, please don't worry," I say before kissing him softly, "I'll see you tonight!"

Charles nods and gives me a hug before getting back into his car. I take my suitcase into the apartment complex, dragging it up the stairs since the elevator was broken.

I couldn't wait to get in bed. I approach my apartment door and see it's slightly open. What the fuck? I slowly open the door, honestly preparing for the worst.

And that's what it was. The worst. My mother. Sat down on my couch, her head jolted towards me as she begins to stand up.

"Michelle?" I ask, questioning if this was just a figment of my imagination. Honestly, hoping it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

"You mean mum?" She says, with an arrogant tone.

"You want me to call you my mother?" I reply with a scoff as I drop my bags. "Where have you been for the past two years, mother?"

That's when I see her face fuel with rage, she crosses her arms and says, "Oh, don't start Ella. It seems you've been completely fine here."

"Completely fine? Dad died and you literally just disappeared." I say, feeling my voice get louder from how angry I was beginning to feel.

"I called you" She claims.

"Twice. Two years ago." I shout back with a scoff.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" She shouts back, even louder. I felt like a little kid all over again.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her with a tremble, feeling myself slowly move back from her.

"I think it's time for an intervention" My mother says as she goes to sit down onto the couch. I follow behind her and sit down, far from her.

"What?" I stutter.

"So, my husband dies. You carry on with your useless studies, and actually manage to get the job he's always wanted you to have." My mother explains.

"Yes, and?" I ask, having no idea where this conversation was going.

"And you try to throw it all away by hanging around with a man that you definitely shouldn't be with?" She shouts, her hands waving around as she continues, "What the fuck Ellasandra!"

"How- how do you know about that?" I ask, with a confused look.

"Just because I haven't been here with you, doesn't mean I haven't had anybody watching you." My mother yells. "Do you know how ashamed your father would be of you? You've fucked up the best job you could ever have over some guy?"

"Do not bring dad into this. He'd be happy for me, no matter what." I shout back, my body now burning up.

My mother starts to scoff at me, "He wouldn't be proud of you. Look at the mess you've put yourself in. The whole world hates you. I even tried to get his stupid ex girlfriend to break you up but that didn't work" She snaps back.

"Don't tell me you did this" I say, as I begin to stand up, backing away. "You were the one who sold me out to the media?"

"You seriously left me no choice." She says sternly, shrugging in defence.

"You sold your own daughter out? What the fuck, mum? How could you do this?" I shout.

"I did it for your own good. Now you can choose the job over this stupid boy." My mother demands.

"You're too fucking late. I got fired, Michelle. I didn't have a choice and even if I did, do you really think you would've had a say in it?" I say, as I head to the kitchen.

My mother follows behind me, sitting down on my kitchen stool, "You got fired? You fucking idiot." She shouts, "I'm so ashamed of you, your dad would be too."

"You did this. I wouldn't of got fired if it wasn't for you" I snarl back.

"No. Don't you dare blame your mother. Like you've always done. You're just the same pathetic girl you've always been, grow up. You got fired because you are stupid and irresponsible" My mother claims pointing at me with a stern face. "You know, this is why I never wanted a child. You've disappointed me. You've definitely disappointed your father."

"Leave" I shout, my mother begins to rest her arms on the kitchen island, with no intention of moving. "Leave now!"

My mother laughs at me, and begins to head to the door, "You are no longer my daughter. You're disgusting. You're nothing" she says as she takes a sip from her flask, slamming the door on her way out.

I felt so angry in this moment, I don't think I've ever felt this much rage in my entire life. My own mother sold me out, ruined everything I'd worked for. All these years of studying so hard, working for media companies on the side to build up my portfolio and being paid close to nothing. All for nothing, because of the person who is supposed to be there for me. She's supposed to protect me from harm, not cause it.

I felt like I was having a breakdown, my body burning up. I felt like I could've even breath. All I kept doing was replaying everything she'd just said to me, over and over again. My mother always had these drunken outbursts, even when I was little child. She never harmed me, physically, but the mental torture I'd endure whenever she drank was traumatising. Whenever she drank, I'd have to lock my door and cover my ears with my pillow as the sounds of glass smashing echoed in our home. My dad would always be working and I was left with her. Everything wrong in her life was blamed on me, and she never let that down. Always claiming if she never had me, she'd be so much happier. Hearing that from the ages of 5 to 18, ruined me and was the reason I wanted to leave the country so bad, and the reason I hated everything about myself.

I head to a kitchen cabinet, searching for a drink. Luckily, I found an old bottle of whiskey. I immediately begin to drink straight from the bottle, hoping that the liquor would drown out all this noise in my head. I keep drinking until I physically couldn't, my head felt fuzzy and my body struggled to balance. I stumble towards my bedroom and lay down, with my face buried into my pillow.

I look up at my bedside table, the picture of my dad facing right at me. It almost felt like he was there looking straight at me, which made me fully aware of how intoxicated I'd become. My eyes slowly shift to the nearby photo of me, my mother and my dad. I immediately pick it up and chuck it at my wall, leaving a dent in the wall and the glass frame shattering all over the floor. Normally, I would never lash out like this. I'm not one to take out my anger on other people or things, but I felt different. It felt good to throw it, using the rage fuelled up in my body. I look at my glass vase with rotting flowers in it from a few weeks ago, I pick that up and throw it on the floor, and proceeded to smash more things, anything I could find in my room.

"Ella? I'm back!" Victoria shouts from afar, "Don't get mad but I made plans for a double date for us tonight!"

Victoria is now standing at my door, her face shocked with horror at the state of my bedroom. I look at her, even though she looked blurry in my drunken eyes. "Ella, what are you doing?" Victoria asks softly, not moving an inch because of the glass all over the floor.

I stumble towards her, glass hitting my feet with every footstep but it didn't hurt, I could barely see the glass. "Be careful, Ella!" Victoria shouts with so much concern,  "What is going on?"

"Everything. Every fucking thing." I say as I try to pick the glass shards out of my feet, losing balance.

"Ella, your arm" Victoria says as she grabs it, that's when I look down at it. A huge cut on my arm, with so much blood surrounding it. "Okay, I'm going to call an ambulance. This looks really bad."

"It's fine. It's just a little cut." I mumble, taking my arm back from her grip. That's when I begin to feel lightheaded, and everything just goes black.