Shattered|The Fosters

16

Emilia's P.O.V

I walk to the bathroom again, searching for my journal.

Callie and Jesus come out from behind me, tapping my shoulder. "Looking for this?"

My heart sinks, and for a minute I feel like I've lost everything.

Everything.

"Don't freak," Jesus says, putting his hands up. "We're not going to tell."

I let out a pained sigh.

Great.

They know too.

"What's going on in here?" Brandon's question, grabbing his toothbrush.

"Later," I mouth, and walk downstairs to get some food.

They sort of trail behind me to the kitchen, making me self concuss.

"Good morning, loves" Stef says as we walk towards the food.

I grab a green apple and sit down, biting into it.

Everyone grabs eggs and bacon from the counter-a traditional Sunday meal, and sighs in relief.

I almost roll my eyes.

"So," Stef says, sinks her fork into a piece of scrambled eggs. "We're going to leave me in a couple of minutes."

Why does she only say that to me?

I look up to see if anyone knows anything, but they keep there heads down, too aware of there food.

I feel my eyebrows furrow. "Where are we going?" I take another bite of my apple, glad they're not pestering me to eat more.

"Well," Lena starts. "We're going to take you to Callie's old therapist."

"Why?" I ask, not wanting to go. "I don't 'wanna go." I whine.

"It's not up for discussion." Stef warns, glaring at me.

I scoff. "I'm not going."

I walk outside, my face burning red.

Why would they do this?

Why would they bring me to a therapist?

I don't need help.

I don't need anyone's help.

I make it halfway down the street when I hear Stef calling my name.

"Emilia," she says again, her voice hard as stone.

I don't care.

I don't need her.

I don't need anyone, especially not a stupid therapist.

Her next words shatter my heart, tearing and ripping it to pieces. "Lilac!"

I whip around to face her. "What did you just call me?"

"Get in the car." My eyes shift to Callie, walking towards us. "Now."

I can't get past the fact that she said that.

God, I can't do this.

I never had a family.

Why would I need one now?

"Lilac is dead." I spit, my jaw locking. "My mom is dead." I bare my teeth, forcing my voice not to shatter like my heart. "She committed suicide. She said if she wasn't allowed to get custody of me, she would kill her self. And she did." My eyes burn into hers, and I feel nauseous when I look at her. All that pity. "You know why my father tried to kill me all these years? Because he blamed me. For everything. Me." I spit.

"Get in the car." She whispers.

I laugh, smiling bitterly as I push past her to the car. But she can see that pain in my smile.

The hurt of guilt and blame for seven years.

"Screw you."