Dark Phoenix | ✓

chapter 21

My mother walks over to my father, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What is this, an intervention?" I unintentionally snap.

"No," mum sighs, taking a seat next to me. "We just wanted to..."

"Apologise," my father adds. "We wanted to apologise.

I stare at my lap, entwining and untwining my fingers. My bracelet continuously falls down my wrist.

"We don't want to go on like this, Lonnie," my mum says, reaching out to grasp my arm.

"We don't want to feel disconnected from you. We want you to be able to talk to us."

"I have! I did! It's literally taken you over a month to have a serious conversation with me. How am I at fault here?"

"We never said you were at fault. Don't twist our words."

I roll my eyes, anger beginning to corse through me.

"If anything, it's your fault that you feel like I'm disconnected."

"We know," my mother whispers. "We know we haven't been good enough these past few months."

"But we're trying," my dad adds. "We are just trying our best."

"Your best?" I jump up, pointing a shaky finger at him. "All I'm hearing right now is that I'm disconnected. Why don't you just tell me the truth, for god's sake!"

"Lon—"

"No! You don't get to do that! You still can't admit that you think I'm going to turn out like Nix, can you?"

"We—"

"You're afraid I'm going to be him. I see it. I have seen it since he died."

"Enough!" my father shouts, rising from his seat. His stern look makes me pause and I cower back down.

I didn't often hear my dad yell, but when he did, you knew it was serious.

"If you would just listen to us for one second, you would realise that we are sorry for all of it."

I don't reply. My father takes my silence as his time to speak.

"We are sorry if you think that. We never wanted you to feel like we didn't trust you because of Nix's actions."

"Too late for that," I mumble, hugging myself.

My mother squeezes my arm and when I look up, I notice that she has tears gathering in her eyes.

"We've only been trying to protect you. We don't want to lose you too."

"You're not going to lose me," I sternly say. "Not if you just let me live. I'm not like him. I'm not."

"We know," my mother whispers.

"That's the thing," I say, standing up again. "I don't think you do."

"Lon—"

"Please let me just say this, okay?"

They don't answer, so I take that as my invitation to continue.

"You're both afraid I'll end up like Nix. You're scared because you trusted him too. You thought you knew him too. But you didn't."

"London, we—"

"No," I hold up my hand. "It's alright. I've come to terms with it. Because I'm afraid too. I'm afraid that maybe you're right. Maybe I will be just like him."