warning: mentions of mature themes and vulgar language
"it's not my fault."
☼
"sweetie, tell me what's wrong," my mother sympathetically asked me as i laid down on my clean sheets. i didn't respond to her as i rolled around on my bed for the smell of fresh linen to hit my nostrils.
my mother tried again, "seriously, you have to tell me what's wrong. you've been like this the whole week." this time, it felt more like a demand than anything else. more than anything, i felt frightened.
i quickly sat up and faced my mother. "nothing," i paused as my mother gave me a look, i continued, "seriously, nothing is wrong with me. it's probably low blood sugar. i haven't been taking in much sugar this week." my mother nodded yet still did not believe me. she made her way out of my room ,but before she did, she looked at me one last time.
"i need to get better at lying," i whispered to myself as i laid down on my bed. life was hard enough for me, why make it harder? i stared at the ceiling with one thought running through my brain: why is it always me that has to go through this? i shut my eyes tightly trying to imagine a much worthy life.
eventually drowsiness took over.
sleep
sleep
sleep
"hey! where were you? i missed you so much. did you go to ed's party last night? everyone was there. i heard that ed and this girl made out. ugh, lucky girl. ed is built so well, he can choke me," cara said followed by a fit of chuckles. cara paused and continued quietly following with, "i heard it was a girl who was still in a relationship with someone. what a whore. i didn't think that ed would go for that type. call me back when you get a chance. bye! love you lots!"
"it's not my fault."
"it's not my fault."
"it's not my fault."
"it's not my fault."
"it's not my fault."
"it's not my fault."
"it's not my fault."
the next breath struck me awake as i panted. tears came out of my eyes as i remembered the night of that party. those few hours changed my perception of ed. i will never look at him the same way every again. he will be at fault for this.
my tear-filled eyes directed in the way of my book bag which was lying on the corner of my opened closet. only one thought ran across my brain: "i need to burn it."
it will never leave me if i didn't.
☽
it's me, the author and please pay attention to the warnings.
they were put there for a reason.
if you're not comfortable with this situation, you do not have to advance in reading this.
also, the protagonist will not be given a name yet.
