Pieces of Me.

Villain.

12/01/2019

"Me and your stepfather broke up." Well ain't that nice, "he left and took all his things," again "it's for real this time." Sure it is.

I'm not too fazed by the information, it's like the fifth time my mother and him break up. For all I know he's back in a couple of days.

"I thought you'd be more happy, you never really liked him..." Neither did you.

"It's you who has to be happy," my sister told her.

"I am... relieved." Sure you are.

You know why this is happening now? Let's rewind a few chapters:
"I haven't seen my parents this close in almost seven years. Even though my dad technically has nothing to do with my grandparents anymore he is still here, where my mother's boyfriend is nowhere to be found."

You remembered how it was to be treated right. You haven't been for years, and that's anyone's fault but yours.
And when you asked my dad to spend Christmas with us I knew this was coming, I wasn't the only one, believe me.
I just hope you have a drop of self respect and do not ask my dad out, you know, like the other time you guys broke up 'for real'.

"I think your sister doesn't believe it's for real this time."

"Well you also said it was for real the other times and-"

"It doesn't matter the other times," my sister cut me off with a dirty look.

Oh, go fuck yourself. You had a break from mom, I didn't.
I was the one who was here, through it all.

I was the one who had to hear her complain and have her cry on my shoulder every time they broke up.

I was the one who had to sit through speeches about the millions stages of grief.

I was the one who had to go wedding ring shopping with her. I still have pictures, wanna see?

I was the one who was dragged to her 3 seconds fiancée mansion not even knowing him. She told me she was finally happy and was really in love with this one, only for her boyfriend come pick us up days later.
She was not in love, she doesn't love anyone but herself and maybe not even that.
But she liked the big houses and the expensive cars.
And her boyfriend must be really dumb, she literally cheated on him.

I was here when she put her boyfriend's clothes in the trash one time they also broke up.

I was here through all her lies and cries for attention.

I was the one who was here every time the douchebag came back.

Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

Me, not you. So don't you dare.
You didn't talk to her for years, because you were mad at her, remember? Do you remember why?
I bet you remember telling me you didn't want to come to her funeral.
Or the time she threw you out of the house.

People these days must be spending too much time with Dory.

"When me and my boyfriend broke up you didn't think it was for real either." She continued.

Oh excuse me, it's not my fault you all keep breaking up, saying it's for real and days later they're the loves of your life again.

Whatever.
I'm just angry.
God, I am furious but it's not like I care.

My mother wants me to, of course she does.

When I asked for socks she made sure she opened all the closet doors unintentionally, of course, showing me its emptiness where his clothes used to be, of course she didn't remember her socks are in the drawers. Of course.

"Oh my gosh, look!" She takes out my baptism dress.
Really? Really?!

You should know that after all these years the 'remember all those great times' card does not work with me.

All I wanted were the fucking socks.

And go to to bed.

And read.

But no.

I had to sit through a family movie because for once we are all single.
I'm not. But once again, of course you don't know that.

"Tomorrow you want to go to the mall?" No.

"I have to study but you can go with your other daughter."

"You came here to spend the weekend with me, not for us to go seperate ways."

I have been spending weekends here for years and you only remember this now? Yes, you know why? Because you're alone.

Don't you fucking dare, it is too late now.

I don't care if you hug me crying saying you are sorry once again.

I won't believe it.

You're a cheater. You cheated on my dad, and on the man you cheated on him with. And on this last boyfriend, twice.

You're a liar. I don't even bother to count how many times you have lied and keep lying, they're too many.

You're a bad mother. That is never going to change, I don't give a shit about how many times you try.

I may be a bad daughter but I don't want to be a good one.
You? It just comes naturally to you.

When I look at you all I see is a stingy women that all she does is look at her own bellybutton, only helps others when she gets something in return or has to look good in the picture. That's the women I see.

All the bad things you've done, the people you've hurt and the marks you've left in me.

Everything is your fault and you don't even feel guilty.
Or worse, maybe you don't even know. Can someone actually be that sick?

Poor little sick princess.

It doesn't matter anymore. It won't change anything.

You may be the poor little princess in your story but you will always be the sick villain in mine.