Fifteen - Bitter Confessions

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Her smirk faded so quickly and her face transformed into a horrified expression.

This was a bad idea I shouldn't have told her this.
But how do I expect her to react? Take things smoothly as if she's not sitting across a murderer's son?

Of course she has to look petrified.

But because she is Angelina, she quickly recovered from her shocked state and tried to pull the best straight face she could manage and gestured for me to go on.

"It wasn't really intentional, but he did it anyway because he's a selfish fucktard"

"How did he do it? Why?" she asked cautiously.

"My dad wasn't around much, it was always my mom, my two sisters and I. He'd come back from work, when he used to work before his manager fired his pathetic ass, then after work he'd go drink at random bars, do drugs like an uncontrollable teenage dipshit, then come home at around 4 am trashing around the house, if he did come back home. We all preferred when he didn't show up."

I paused taking a deep breath before continuing.

"It looks like a very typical story but it really isn't. Most of the neighbourhood knew what an alcoholic rage he was, my best friends knew, my schoolmates knew, the supermarket in front of my house knew, it was a nightmare."

"Despite the countless violent fights he's had with my mother and sometimes me, she'd never leave him. She used to rant on and on about how he'll change and that deep down he's a good person, the same person she once loved and that he just needs our help. Fuck yes he needs help, he needs to go to a fucking mental hospital."

"It was so unfair, so fucking unfair for us to have to go through this. I blamed my mother each and every single time he laid a finger on any of us. I couldn't wait to turn 18." I was fidgeting with the sleeve of my shirt to avoid looking into her eyes, which I was sure were filled with disappointment.

"Every summer, we'd go to Miami to visit my grandparents, from my mother's side. So this summer, my sister Linda came back from a birthday party at the beach at like 12 am, she was surprised to find my father on the couch with undoubtedly, a bottle in his hand. He rarely made it home by 12. So as soon as I heard the door signaling Linda was home, I rushed out to see what he'll do and so did my mom and Lindsey."

I closed my eyes trying to fight back the tears, I remember every single detail like it just happened last night.

I felt Angelina's hand on mine providing comfort, I gulped and continued.

"He was beyond trashed and started saying horrible stuff to my sister while laughing, she ignored him and made her way to her room. He ran towards her and grabbed her from her hair shouting at her for walking away from him. She started crying and so did mom and Lindsey. I tried to pull him away from her but he punched my stomach so hard I started coughing blood." I say recalling the terrible feeling.

"My mom ran towards them and tried to calm him down but he only pushed her away and blamed her for 'not raising us correctly' judging by the way Linda was dressed. Mom lost it and slapped him right across the face so he punched her too. I tried to get up, I really did but I couldn't so Linda went for it and pulled him from his shirt. Furious, he turned around really and pushed her with all his might that she went flying and crashed into the wall mirror near the staircase."

She covered her mouth and her eyes were frightened.

"The image is still vivid in my mind, her eyes wide open, blood everywhere. She was dead. I didn't have time to register it in my mind all I did was rush to the phone and called 911. I didn't care if my mother would never forgive me for doing this. Father was shocked and kept backing away while mom and Lindsey ran to her, Lindsey threw herself on Linda crying her eyes out, her twin sister was dead. Minutes later the police was here arresting him."

I opened my eyes to find tears running across Angelina's delicate features. She wiped them off rapidly and stared at me.

"I don't mean to come off as judgmental but, why are you here if all of this happened just last summer?"

There, The dreaded question.

I stayed silent not meeting her gaze.

"It's okay. Someone once told me that it's okay to feel weak every now and then, it's okay to let your guard down and let someone help strengthen you." She quoted me offering a comforting smile.

Somehow, this made me go on.

"As soon as the police arrested my father and took Linda's body, mom was beyond furious with me. There she was screaming her head off because I turned my father in, the one who murdered her daughter, instead of giving herself and us time to grieve on our loss. And just when I thought the situation couldn't get worse, it actually did. She refused to let the news of Linda's murder come out and if anyone asks about her, she'd say she died in an accident in Miami. She didn't want anyone to find out her husband killed her daughter because she didn't want to ruin her so called perfect image. She paid off the police and everything and just held this tiny funeral for her which mainly consisted of her, Lindsey, my grandparents and I." I said spitefully, resisting the urge to spit on the imaginary image I had of her right now.

"I was enraged and depressed for about a month. I was hurt, God, there was so much hurt I could barely breathe. So, I decided to come home. Mom was too tired to argue by then but she had decided to stay with Lindsey in Miami while my father is rotting in jail. I tried my best to come back here and forget about everything. Forget about my dickhead of a father. Forget about my narcissistic mother. Forget about my isolated sister. And most of all, forget about my dead one. I just wanted to leave it all behind and start fresh, but I couldn't. I lied to my best friends, I didn't even tell them what happened because I acted as if nothing did. My best friends didn't know my sister was dead. I had to act like everything was normal in order to forget everything and feel normal. Instead, I felt nothing anymore." I gulped.

"But everything changed when I first saw you." I said before I could stop myself.

She looked at me too quickly I feared her neck would snap.

We stared at each other's eyes a little too much. I got lost in her captivating green eyes and I kind of hoped she was lost in mine too.

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