-Six years ago-
-Diana's POV-
"She said she doesn't want to speak to anyone at the moment, Charlie. I'm sorry." I hear Jane speaking outside the bedroom door, the bedroom which I have to call my own now.
I hate it—I hate Jane. I hate Charlie and I hate everything. I trusted Charlie with it all when he found out and he went behind my back and told Jane. They took me away from home.
Now everyone knows. My whole family—I wonder if Dad knows, if he cares?...I doubt he does, I mean he left us so easily like it didn't matter...like he didn't care so I really don't think he would care in the slightest if he found out Mom followed in his footsteps.
I put my hand to my jaw wincing at the pain since Mom slapped me, in front of both Jane and Charlie and I fell hitting the side of the fireplace which now left me with a bloody jaw.
Jane done worse to my Mom. I hit Jane though when she dragged me to the car, I slapped her across the face and told her to let me go but she didn't.
It's been a week and I have barely spoken to her, she took me away from my home, away from my Mom who needs help—she could have taken too much once I left...She might be worried...maybe.
"That's a lie—you don't know her well enough, she wants someone to talk to—and that's my job." I hear Charlie voice. I ignore him rubbing Sadie who lays on the bed with me.
This room isn't safe—it doesn't feel safe, it feels like a cage that I can't get out of. I mean Jane locked the windows so I can't jump out of them...
The door opens and Charlie steps inside, wearing his usual grey Casper shirt along with a grey flannel..his baggy jeans basically falling down.
"I deserve a thank you, Chicken." He says, walking over to the bed I sit on. I roll my eyes at his words, he doesn't understand how much I hate him right now.
"You betrayed me, Charlie. You deserve a go f yourself." I say, pulling the blanket over myself as Sadie pushes herself up, sitting up as barks at Charlie.
"I got you out of that house—"
"That was my home! My dad left when I was eleven—my family has fallen apart and you tore me away from the last things I had."
"The only thing falling apart was you, idiot! She was tearing you apart, there's a new bruise every single day—"
"I—I fell a few times—"
"Why are you defending her? Really, she's treated you like shit, you're basically a skeleton because you have to take care of yourself. I bring extra lunch to school since you never have lunch. You were going to die eventually either because of her or because of yourself." He tells me and I look down at my thin arms, I blink looking away as my head begins pounding, I've cried so much this past week it's beginning to hurt when I cry.
"Seriously, why are you still defending her?" He repeats the question and I look at Sadie who lays back looking up at me as her ears perk up.
"She's...She's my Mom, Charlie." I say quietly, blinking away the tears that still put up a fight and fall from my eyes anyway.
"She doesn't act like it—"
"Yeah, she does. She's not always drunk—"
"Bullshit—"
"Fuck off, would you?!" I shout looking to him and he shakes his head at me.
"I didn't betray you, I saved you."
"Maybe you think that, but that's all it is...a thought from the small brain of yours. Your stupidity is showing, seriously, you fail every single class—you have never made a smart move in your life so stop acting like you are right." I raise my voice, still looking at Sadie as I just feel anger and sadness in my stomach.
"You will thank me one day."
"No, I won't. I will never forgive you, ever. You're basically dead to me and we're not friends anymore." I snap looking to him finally and I see the tears in his brown eyes.
"I love you, Di. You gotta realise that what you called home is not what a home is supposed to be like. I'd rather be dead to you than have you suffer there any longer, call me stupid but it was the best decision I made." He tells me and I sniffle laying back in the bed against the pillows stacked on top of one another.
"Get out." I tell him as tears roll down my cheeks, I close my eyes for a second wanting it all to stop.
"No." He responds and my eyes open looking to him as he walks closer slowly as he keeps looking at me.
"Charlie...please—just go—I can't—"
"Everything's gonna be fine, I swear." He tells me, he walks closer and I shake my head but he ignores me. He stops in front of me holding his arms out.
"I want to go home, I want my Mom." I start sobbing before my body moves without thinking, I get up and wrap my arms around Charlie and he wraps his arms around me back. A hug is what I didn't know I needed so bad, even from the person I'm most mad at.
"This is home, that wasn't. It wasn't safe for you, at all. I might be like dead to you, Di, but my heart is still beating for you, chicken." He tells me, I bury my face into his flannel as every emotion washes over me, it's just everything at once—sadness, anger, shock, fear and a deep feeling of loneliness which Charlie's hug lifts off my shoulders slightly.
He doesn't understand that it was my home—although it was painful sometimes, I still grew up there, there was a time where both of my parents were happy and sober, taking me to places where we would all laugh. Dad putting me on his shoulders and running while Mom laughed and I giggled feeling joy—like I was on top of the world.
We were all happy at a point, the perfect family—the perfect life.
Until it all changed.
I still don't know why, Dad left three years ago after getting clean instead of staying and rebuilding our family....I don't even know why he began drinking, maybe because he was sad? But he smiled, he smiled a bunch even when he first began drinking—he always smiled. If someone was asked to speak about him back then they would say he was full of life, full of joy and brightened every room he walked into.
But does smiling mean happiness? Or is it just the mask he put on the hide how miserable he was from me, from Mom? Did he not want anyone to notice the pain? Does anyone want someone to notice the pain they experience?
I mean..does anybody really want to get better— if a pain lasts so long then you're bound to find comfort in it. It's still painful but some people feel like they deserve that pain, while others question where it all went wrong or what did they did to deserve it? Maybe it makes no sense...
People noticed Dads pain, everyone began to as his shield cracked like the glass bottles that were thrown against the wall, aimed at my Mom but just about missed...
But she smiled too, coming into my room telling me to watch my iPad with headphones. She would tell me it with a smile 'it's just one of those nights' or 'he's had a bad day'. She told me with blood running down her arms or a red mark on her face and her eyes teary from him.
When he left...I noticed the signs in my Mom. The bottles gradually building on the table, the smile never reaching her eyes. I knew what to look for, so I saw it coming.
It was hard to believe but I still knew, I wanted to think different. I told her I didn't like her drinking, she hit me for having an attitude. It was never worse than it was with him. I think the real pain came from seeing the People who raised me with so much love turn into People who seemed as if they would prefer me dead.
I was a child, one moment full with joy and love and the next, numb but also feeling everything so deeply. If that a blessing or a curse, to feel everything but nothing?
Maybe their smiles, joy and love was nothing more than just a front to hide the pain underneath.
-Present-
-Natalie's POV-
I open the trunk putting the grocery bag in.
"I got you Swedish fish and some other candies, do you want them now, darling?" I ask Diana.
"No." She responds quietly. I nod to myself before pulling the trunk door down. I make sure it's shut properly before walking around the car.
She has barely spoke and she's shaky, which is expected, she is terrified to be in the car. She stayed overnight at the hospital, I stayed too. I didn't sleep much, neither of us did but I didn't speak as I left her alone...I didn't want to bother her.
I don't like what she said to me either, that she wishes it was her. I don't want to seem selfish or to make it about me but it fucking hurt. Not compared to the pain she's feeling and I get where she is coming from and why she might feel that way but it makes me feel horrible. The woman I love most wishing death upon herself.
I get into the car, I hold out the little shark teddy I found in the store for her. She glances to it before looking away. I press my lips together before pulling it back.
I see a tear drop fall from her eyes, I don't think, my body acts like it usually does and I reach over wiping it off her face. She quickly shakes her head pulling away.
"Don't touch me." She snaps at me, I look at her for a second and she looks back at me, she sniffles, she's angry with me I can tell, maybe at herself too but she doesn't want to be near me.
"Ok—alright, I won't, I apologise, I just thought—"
"Natalie, just stop." Her voice breaks and I keep looking at her as she turns away, wincing a little as she stares out the window.
She has a crutch, a piece of glass from the window got to her thigh, she has stitches there and on her stomach, small ones on her upper arm but not too serious which is the most surprising.
I basically have to help her do everything because of her arms, I might have to help feed her, she was struggling at the hospital to hold a fork, the doctors said it will be like that...I have to help her change, shower, get up the stairs and more.
She's been crying since she found out, she hasn't stopped, her eyes are red, one more than the other because of the bruise underneath it.
My heart hurts for her, I want to lay with her and run my hand through her hair—tell her it will all be alright while giving her small kisses.
If I could take the pain away from her, I would, I hate seeing her cry, I hate that lives are taken away from people too soon.
He could have made it to London, if only he had the time.
✺
Diana winces as I press the cloth gently against the wound on her stomach while she sits back on the bathroom counter.
"Ow, fuck!"
"I know, my beautiful girl, I'm sorry." I say putting the cloth down, she cries and I bite my lip dipping my finger into the Vaseline quickly. I have to clean her wounds twice a day and use Vaseline and a non stick bandage for them.
I rub it onto her skin, around the wound carefully before I pick up the nonstick bandage. I put it over the wound carefully, making sure the edges are in place and aren't going to fall off before the morning.
Her thigh wasn't too bad, she just shifted a little, she was in pain but she tried to act like it didn't hurt. I can read her easier than I can read a book.
She can't exactly go back to Yale, not that she wants to anyway but she can't do anything. I was given her phone by a cop, I saw my missed calls along with a few messages from Miss Josephine Moore. I read them, of course, she was asking Diana was she okay as she didn't show up to her lecture. Is it normal for Professors to message their students went they don't show up to a lecture and stick their nose where it doesn't belong? I don't think so but I can't be one to speak.
"That should be alright now. I will clean it again in the morning—" I stop talking as she gets off the counter herself, limping...I grab her crutch handing it to her, she doesn't look at me as she takes it.
"I love you." I tell her, that makes her glance to me.
"I love you." She whispers before leaving the bathroom, I watch her walk over to the chair that I moved by the balcony door for her to look outside as she asked me to...The only words she's really muttered to me since we've gotten home.
I'm not pushing her though, I'll let her be. She's still processing and I need to let her, even though I want to hug her and make sure she feels safe...My wants aren't what is important right now.