Fix Me

Chapter 8.

Trigger warning for this chapter. I'll write another one right before the passage so you can skip it if you want to :)

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I stared at the wall. It hadn't gone as bad as I thought. It was pretty bad, but just a little worse than the usual. I hadn't gone to school because I knew I'd have to limb all day because my knee hurt a lot. Nothing broken though... I think...

I sat up slowly, holding my breath at the pounding pain of all the bruises I had. I leaned up against my wall and stared at the roof. I hadn't bought any makeup yet, and I had work at the club. Despite the pain, I couldn't skip my first day. I didn't have any extra money laying around anymore. I would have to take some money from my stash in the ceiling. It was college savings. I had to get in, I worked hard enough for it. If everything worked out as planned and I got a scholarship I would use the money to rent an apartment while still working.

I couldn't get the money while my mom and Gerald were in the house though... unless I was sure they were passed out. I got out of bed slowly, grabbing the things I needed to get cleaned up and change clothes in the bathroom.

I slowly and carefully made my way out of my room gritting my teeth at the pain in my knee before I walked towards my mother's room. I felt disappointment fill me when I realised she was awake sitting at the end of her bed, but that disappeared when I noticed that she was holding some papers, the box on the floor at her feet.

My jaw dropped slightly seeing the tears on her face. I was about to back away knowing she would be pissed when she realised I was watching her but her speaking caused me to freeze.

"We loved him... He wasn't a mistake... It was a mistake listening to them..." She mumbled, she didn't glance up from the papers, "I was young and I couldn't say no or they would have kicked me out... I-I had to give him up."

I didn't know what to say or think when I heard her sob. The only time I had seen her this sad was when I walked in on her at my father's coffin before anyone else arrived for the funeral. The rest of the day her face was blank, even as he was buried.

"He was so perfect... He is so perfect..." She whispered running her fingers over what I assumed was the picture of him I had seen. "And then we had you." She gave a dry laugh. I swallowed stepping back slowly because the laugh somehow felt like a punch to my chest. "That. That was a mistake." She said. I could feel the knot growing in my throat. I had heard her - and my dad - say that so many times. And it still hurt every time. "You are nothing like he was. Is. You are nothing. We should have given you up, but we got - I still get state support for you." She said. I felt my eyes pounding with tears but I wouldn't let them fall. "I hate you... You're useless and stupid... He would have been so perfect... My baby..." She said.

"I'm... sorry." I forced the choked whisper past the huge ball in my throat that I was currently suffocating on.

"You should be." Was all I heard her mutter.

I nodded and began walking towards the bathroom finally feeling tears begin to fall from my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, I didn't want her to see how much it hurt, and the crying just seemed to be making it worse, but no matter how much I wiped the hot salty water from my eyes, it just kept coming.

**!... Here's the warning...!**

I shut and locked the bathroom door as I bit my lip hard trying to keep from making a sound. I sat on the edge of the bathtub wanting to break something, mostly myself. I wanted to hit something so hard I broke my wrist. I wanted to break something. That would hurt less than my chest currently did. I couldn't even feel my bruises anymore.