Time seemed to freeze for a few seconds as I hear those dreaded words. Those words I absolutely hate and fear. I don't want to see my father. I absolutely don't want to see him. I hate him. I want him gone. I really do.
But there's a tiny part of me that whispers louder than I thought it would. A tiny part of me that acknowledges the fact that he's my father. That he's half of me. A tiny part of me that hates anything and everything new. A tiny part of me that wants familiarity. Because I'm used to being hurt. I don't know anything else. I'm not used to anything. I'm used to the feeling of painful familiarity. And I know it's messed up of me to think.... but I want familiarity. I want something I'm used to. I want to be hurt. I want the pain. I want the torture. I want the feeling of hurting repeatedly. It's messed up. But it's me. And it's all I've ever known. And some part of me thinks that it's all I'll ever know.
I'm afraid of the fact that a small part of me wishes this to be true.
I'm shaken from my thoughts when I hear a loud "bang" ring around the room. I look towards the source of the sound to see Tyson, who just punched a wall. But I don't care. I don't care about anything right now. I just want to sleep.
I just want to sleep and never wake up.
"That disgusting fuck is not stepping a single foot into this hospital," Tyson says through gritted teeth, an aura of controlled rage rippling off of him in waves. It scares me more than the thought of seeing my father. Controlled rage means sudden outbursts. Sudden outbursts mean I could be the wall Tyson punched. I don't want that. But I'm used to it.
Just then an intense wave of nostalgia and sadness hits me and I can't help but feel lonely. I look around and I see all these people surrounding me when they shouldn't. They should be at home, doing whatever they want to instead of at a hospital trying to comfort a lump of fuck.
But I'm also so selfish.
I can't help but let them stay. Because I want to feel cared for. I want to feel loved. I've never felt that before. I've never felt safe. And I feel safe here. No completely, but it's there. And it's all I have. And I'll grab it like a starved man for food. Because I'm starved of it. I crave the feeling of being safe, the feeling of being cared for.
But I'm so scared of being addicted to it. Because when it's gone, because it will go, I'll have to live without it. And that would hurt so much. So so much.
"Hey Kitty are you alright?" I hear Tyson ask me and I turn towards him, willing the tears to stay put.
I'm far from fine.
"Are you sure you're okay Kitty?"
"Yeah, I'm okay Piggy."
I'm not okay.
"Can you guys leave the room please?" Tyson asks, but he doesn't look at them. He just stares at me with this worried expression etched on his face. I'm simultaneously guilty for having put that expression on his face and happy that he cares so much for me, that he's worried about me.
I'm so confusing. Even to myself.
I watch as everyone in the room walks out the door without question. Amanda gives me a small smile as she goes and a reassuring nod. I give her a small, wobbly smile in return. It's so much more than I can manage and I can see that she knows it too, because she gives me this big bright smile that momentarily stuns me. It's funny how someone as dark as me managed to create something as bright as that.
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Her Last WishTeen Fiction
Tiana Collin's life is horrible and she knows this. With an abusive father and a druggie for a mother and with absolutely no friends at school, she didn't think her life meant much. So she decided to end it. But before she ended her life, she wants...