Reece's Haven

9

"Her friend told her to chase happiness, so she eyes the pizza delivery guy at her door..."
– Nautica

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~ D O R O T H Y ~

October 1997

Mother is absolutely horrified to see the little cut on my upper left cheek. Thankfully, it isn't deep enough for stitches. I know that... but she doesn't.

"We don't need to go to the Emergency," I tell her for the third time as I put my seatbelt on.

"But you're bleeding," she says as her cold fingertips inspect my face.

"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it."

She then begins to barrage me with questions and I reveal to her that I fell onto the concrete floor, keeping the whole story from her. Thankfully, she finally believes that I have no serious injury and doesn't question me further, but she starts to lecture me on how I should be more careful when I walk.

Pfft.

I'm a qualified bipedal, so I ignore the lecture.

When we enter the house, she takes out a First Aid box from a small cabinet in the bathroom. She applies an anti-septic, causing me to wince, before she plasters a bandaid on the wound.

"Thanks," I say.

"Just be careful next time, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah."

She looks at me with concern, cupping my face with her hands. Her warm, green eyes bore into my own, transferring all the affection she can muster.

"You're the only family I have left. You know that, right?"

She used to mean the whole world to me. But now, I question whether I am capable of caring about her just as much as she does about me.

Pushing down the lump in my throat, I nod my head.

"Good," she says.

"I'm going upstairs. I have homework to do," I say.

Giving me a small smile, she lets my face go.

"Ok honey. I'll prepare some snacks for you."

"Thank you."

Then, she goes into the kitchen while I head upstairs to my bedroom.

***

It was difficult to concentrate. It has been nearly two hours since mother and I got home, and I am still on the second question of the maths worksheet (and I am awesome at maths!). Groaning, I slam my pencil down on the table and get up from my seat. I go to the windowsill and sit down on it. Staring into the view of the driveway, I cannot stop thinking about what happened today.

Why did Reece support me getting bullied?

Is he like that with everyone, or just me?

If it is only me, then what did I even do to deserve this?

I rub my temples, annoyed at my inability to let this go. I usually shrug it off, but for some reason, I cannot let this go. Annoyed, I grab onto a pillow and slam it against my face, releasing all of my frustration out.

Why. Can't. I. Let. This. Go?

And more importantly, why does my heart feel so... heavy?

Once my pent-up emotions are released, I hug the pillow and watch the view outside aimlessly.