Under the New York Sky | ✔️

•C h a p t e r S e v e n•

I'm an idiot, of course it's not mom. She's dead, and there's nothing I can do to change that.

Aunt Claire turned around from the stove, sliding a waffle onto the plate. She was already dressed in a pencil skirt and a white dress shirt, her hair tied up into a tight knot on top of her head.

"Good morning," she beamed at me when she noticed my presence.

"You made breakfast today?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing. It wasn't that I was unhappy about it, but today was the only day she'd ever not been in a hurry to leave the house. For the whole month and a half that I'd been here, she had never made breakfast. I wasn't even aware we had a waffle maker.

"I thought I'd treat us to something special," Aunt Claire grinned ecstatically as she set the plates down onto the table.

"Well, who can pass on waffles," I shrugged, sitting down and adding Nutella to my waffle. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, exchanging minor details about school and Aunt Claire's work.

"How come your bedroom light was turned on at 2 in the morning?" Aunt Claire asked me. I looked up at her, but instead of seeing a confused expression, I saw an expression that my mom used to give me when she knew I was up to something no good.

But it's not mom. And it will never be her again.

God, what I'd give to have her look at me like that again.

"I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep," I lied.

Aunt Claire raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Except it stayed on until half an hour ago."

"I fell back asleep with it still turned on," I said quickly. At least that wasn't a complete lie.

Aunt Claire sighed, pushing her empty plate aside, "I think you should go back and see Doctor Miranda." Immediately, I shot up from my seat to put my plate into the sink without giving her an answer, but she pressed on. "Skyler, you know she'll be able to help you."

I spun around to face her. "I can help myself just fine. I'm dealing with it myself," I stated firmly, my voice raising an octave higher than usual.

"How? By staying up until ungodly hours of the night?" Aunt Claire frowned at me.

I took a deep breath, not wanting to snap at her. She just thought she knew what was best for me, but I was sure only I knew that. A little voice in my head echoed that at least I had Aunt Claire and I wasn't in foster care or something worse.

"Look, last night was just a one off," I lied, "and it doesn't happen much at all. I'll be fine, I'm handling this myself."

The last thing I needed was to be stuck inside a stuffy room, recalling my mom's death and telling a random woman how it made me feel to be alone.

It sucked, that was what.

But I didn't want anyone to know that. I didn't want anyone to know how weak I was. They would just take advantage of it.

Aunt Claire opened her mouth, and shut it again, nodding with a heavy sigh that escaped her lips, "Have a good day at school, I'll be off now or I'll be running late."

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she would let it go. Aunt Claire approached me, planting a small kiss on my cheek before grabbing her briefcase and heading out the door.

Sighing, I hurried back to my room. I rummaged through my drawers until I my hands wrapped around the bottle of Zoloft pills again. I took two in my hands and threw them into the trash can next to my bed.