Hello hello, just a fair warning, there is description of an anxiety attack and other overwhelming feelings. There is also some self-deprecating thoughts and toxic thoughts as well in case that is triggering to anyone.
Summary: the one with the F
TWENTY
At the end of the day, I waited in the parking lot for Charlie. Thankfully, we had received the call early that morning that the car had been fixed so our mom dropped us off to get it. I no longer had to rely on friends for rides home, or the school bus. However, I did have to wait for Charlie to get out of work which always took way too long. I sat impatiently drumming my fingers on the steering wheel wishing our parents would get us another car so we didn't have to wait around for the other. They claimed it would be waste of money because we only go to school and work, but it was just very inconvenient for us.
Finally, the passenger door opened and in slid Charlie. She dropped her bag at her feet and clicked her buckle into place before relaxing into the seat silently. She rarely ever spoke to me anymore, not even pleasantries. I had grown used to her silence, so I didn't question it. Instead, I put the car in reverse, backed out of my parking spot, switched gears, and drove off toward our house.
Music played softly through the speakers of the car, drifting around us and filling the silence that always seemed to settle between Charlie and I. My hands clasped the steering wheel tightly, my mind wandering back to the test I had taken. I wondered where I went wrong, where I could have done better. But, I came up blank. I knew all I could on the subjects because I didn't bother to study. Instead, I allowed Violet to invade my thoughts in the moments I should have pushed her out. I was angry with myself for letting it happen. School comes first, at least that's what my mother told me. No matter what else is going on in my life, I was taught to put my school work first, and I didn't this time, leaving a gnawing feeling in my stomach.
"I think I failed my test today," I said to Charlie, my eyes on the road. "Well, I know I failed, I didn't even finish it."
"Mm," Charlie responded
"I'm freaking out. Mom isn't going to be happy with me. Not that she ever is, all she does is tell me how much of a failure I am, and here I go proving her right."
"Mhm," Charlie murmured. I glanced at her in irritation.
"Are you even listening? Do you even care?" Charlie shifted in her seat and looked at me with disdain.
"No," She said cooly. "I don't care about your problems, Emery. You haven't cared about mine, why should I care for yours?"
"What are you talking about? Of course I care about your problems, Charlie! You're my sister," I argued. "You were there for me and I have been trying to be there for you, but you keep pushing me out. What am I supposed to do?"
At a stop sign by our neighborhood I snuck another glance at Charlie. She had gone silent, she was slouched back against her seat with her eyes closed, her face contorted. The last time I saw her she looked exhausted, but now...she looked positively haunting. Her eyes were dull, the bags under them dark and puffy as if she stayed up all night every night, her cheeks were sunken in, her collar bone protruding awkwardly off her body. She looked like a skeleton of herself. If I didn't know any better, I would say this wasn't my sister, my twin.
I pulled the car up to our house, parking in the driveway.
"Charlie," I said, "I care about you, but you're not letting me help."
"There's nothing for you to help me with."
"It doesn't look like you're doing that well," I noted.
Charlie scoffed, "As if you notice anything, Emery."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I said anger bubbling up to the surface
"You only see your problems. All you care about is yourself. If you were really worried you would try harder, but instead you just brush it aside for your own selfish reasons. So, no, I don't want your help and I don't care about your issues." With that, Charlie got out of the car, slammed the door, and stomped her way into the house. I was left alone in the car to stare after her.
She was the perfect child. The star in my parents eyes. She always had been. Charlie was born first, talked first, walked first. She did everything first, and she did everything better. She was the whole package. Everything the perfect daughter should be. She presented herself in a polite manner, never untidy, and always on her best behavior.
This wasn't that Charlie.
I didn't know this Charlie
The verbal lashing she just gave me left a sting behind that I wasn't sure I could forget or unhear. Never once, not even when we were younger and more competitive, did Charlie lash out like that at me. I wondered what was going on her with, but I knew she wouldn't tell me. Not now. Probably not ever. Whatever connection we had was broken. I didn't think I could reach her, nor did I think she wanted me to.
I got out of the car and made my way inside in time to hear her bedroom door slam shut. I sighed and dropped my bag by the door making my way to the kitchen where I heard my parents talking as they cooked dinner.
My dad was standing at the counter chopping piece of chicken into smaller pieces, next to him my mom was cutting up veggies. I stood silently in the doorway watching them interact. Their conversation was quiet and I couldn't quite make out what they were saying. My dad looked at his wife, his lips moving and eventually let out a laugh. She smiled at him adoringly and kissed his cheek. They stared at each other for a moment before my dad turned around to put the chicken in the wok they had on the stove. A sizzle filled the air.
"Emmie, hey, kiddo," My dad said finally noticing me. He came over and kissed the top of my head before going back to cooking.
"What are you cooking?" I asked taking a seat at the kitchen table.
"Our rendition of stir-fry," My mom said. "Where is your sister?"
"She got mad at me and stormed up to her room," I answered honestly. My mother turned around with a confused expression.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing!" I said. "I was just talking to her about my day and she got mad at me."
"You can't put your issues on her, Emery, she has to stay focused."
"I get that, but don't you see something different about her, mom?" My mother handed my dad the bowl of vegetables.
"What do you mean?"
"Just...she's skin and bones, she doesn't come out of her room, she barely talks anymore. I don't even think she's been sleeping."
"She's been working hard," My mom said taking a seat next to me. "Something you clearly don't understand the concept of."
"Brittany," My dad said sternly. "Not now."
"I'm just say, Parker, that Charlie is a hard worker and Emery enjoys slacking off and distracting her sister from important things," My mom turned her attention back to me. "Charlie is just under a lot of pressure to succeed. She will be fine. Pressure makes diamonds after all."
"But--" I started to argue, but my dad cut me off.
"Go wash up, dinner will be ready soon." I wanted to keep arguing, but the look they both had on told me not to bother. Begrudgingly, I got up and made my way to my room after scooping up my backpack. Guilt was eating away at me, because Charlie had been right. I wasn't trying hard enough to be there for her like she had for me. I was just using her to listen to my problems and take care of me, but I hadn't done the same. And while I had been focusing on my relationship issues, Charlie was fading away. But what could I do? If she wouldn't talk to me, if my parents wouldn't listen to me....what could I possibly do? I hadn't a single clue.
For the time being, I let it slide. Nothing could be solved in a night. But I vowed to be there for Charlie, even if she didn't want me to.
*** (panic attack and toxic thoughts coming up)
F.
The letter stared at me. Big. Red. Angry. I knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less. My eyes threatened to open the flood gates. Deep breath, I told myself. It was one bad grade in the sea of excellence...or at least decency.
I tried breathing. I tried focusing on something else. The panic rose up within me. I was really a failure. It was no longer just a jab my mother sent my way. Now it was true. It was a label I could see for myself and my future. Never in my school career had I received a failing grade. Not once. Not even on the tests I crammed for the night before. But the one time I let my school work slip through the cracks and get pushed aside, I failed. Mentally, I was beating myself. None of Mr. Morgan's lecture was getting through to me. All I could see was the red F stained on my record.
My heart was hammering in my chest and I could feel my palms getting sweaty. Air wasn't getting in my lungs properly. I was trying hard not to make a noise, but my shallow breaths caught Aurora's attention. Out of the corner of my eye, Aurora was looking at me with concern in her eyes.
"You okay?" She mouthed.
I shook my head and focused my eyes on the desk attempting to rein in my breathing. My feet were firmly planted on the ground, my hands resting against my thighs, I tried to remember I was in my body.
In through the nose.
Out through the mouth.
Repeat.
But it wasn't working. I was panicking and I needed to get out of there. The desire need for fresh air and cool breezes took over and as soon as the bell rang I was gone. I shoved my notebook and test into my bag and bolted out the door. I heard Aurora call my name, but I couldn't stop. Everyone swarmed the hallway to head to their next class. I was jostled about as I rushed through them. People gave me odd looks, but I kept running.
"No running in the halls!" A teacher yelled at me. No one stopped me. They all just stared as I whipped through the hallway like a hurricane. I was a category five disaster. There wasn't anything that could stop my path of destruction on myself.
I burst through the door near the student parking lot. The fall breeze nipped at my face. Even the breeze couldn't cool my body down. I was on fire. And the fresh air was doing nothing for my anxiety. My self-destructive thoughts were whipping up a heavy wind in my mind sending the scattered remains of my sanity to far corners and out of my reach.
"I gotta get out of here," I muttered to myself before running to the car. I sent a text to Charlie that I was leaving because I didn't feel good. She didn't respond. The car rumbled to life and I sped away to my house. I rolled the windows down and let the cool air glide across my clammy skin. A loud punk rock song came on and I turned the volume up to drown out my thoughts.
I drove fast through town, the higher powers at work taking pity on me and allowing every light I get to be green. No cops were around, no people were either, so I let my lead foot take control. I wanted to put as much distance between me and the school as possible. It was careless, reckless, and utterly idiotic. But no part of me wanted to think about my responsibilities or being level-headed. I wanted to let the angry music blare through my speakers and numb me.
The panic I felt when I left the building was clawing at my insides like a demon within me. I knew that one test wasn't going to determine my future, but the monster that resided in my body and mind was telling me otherwise. It snarled and bared its teeth, repeating the label "failure" over and over again. The louder I turned up the music the louder it roared. No matter the volume, the beast taunted me above it all.
"You're a failure, Emery," It snapped its teeth, "Who would ever love you? You're a hopeless mess. A pitiful excuse for a human."
I cranked the volume until my rearview mirror shook and I couldn't hear the sound of the wind rushing by.
"Failure. Disgusting. Worthless."
I whipped my car onto my street, blowing through stop signs, not bothering to check. Not caring to. Everything felt final. My mothers disapproving gaze settled on me in my thoughts. Her words mirroring those of the beast within. All my life I wanted nothing more to please her, to make her proud, and instead, I got distracted. I got an F. Davis' did not get failing grades.
I stormed into the house. My bag fell by the front door, test peeking out from the top. The F staring at me mockingly.
"Oh, shut up," I grumbled at it like the paper was taunting me.
Every thought was clouded with anger. At my mom for the impossible standards she set. At myself for getting distracted. At Violet for being distracting.
Violet.
The enigma. The one person that was difficult for me to piece together. I had bits and parts, but not the whole picture. Like why she always ran. Why she always disappeared. I wanted to know. I felt like I deserved to know. She was like a damn sour-candy. Sour. Sweet. Gone. It drove me mad. When I was struggling with getting over Sawyer, I thought I knew what insanity was. But this...this was a new level of insane. My thoughts all rotated around Violet.
I had no way of understanding why this happened. For someone who had been so unkind to me for the first several weeks I knew her, I never would have suspected that I would end up having these romantic feelings toward her. Let alone, worrying incessantly and allowing such a thing to keep me from focusing on my grades.
But, Violet, she had rooted herself in my ribs. She made a home in my mind and my body, filling my veins with her essence. She was like a drug I had become addicted to. Without her, I felt like I couldn't breathe or think clearly. I was erratic; uncontrollable. She disappeared, and with her went my sanity. I hated not knowing where she was and if she was okay. She dodged my calls and messages. I hoped she would come back when she was ready, but I was beginning to wonder if she ever would be. And where would that leave me? Having to do a painful pruning job on the presence that had taken residence inside me. I didn't want to get rid of her bit by bit. Or at all.
Sure, I was angry at her; because she left; because I liked her; because she filled every corner of my mind. But I was worried. Violet always came back. She had never been gone so long before. I wanted to find her, help her, be there for her for whatever she needed. Because Violet was always there for me, and it was my turn to be there for her.
"I can't wait for her to come back this time, I have to go to her," I whispered into my empty house, my voice reverberating back to me. "I have to find her." Without hesitation, I ran out the front door, my bag and failed grade still by the front door, and I went in search of Violet.
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What is going on with Charlie? Will Emery find Violet? And will Violet be willing to let Emery in?
FIND OUT SOON.
update coming on Friday 10/27
There's only a handful of chapters left and they will be jam packed.
Please stay tuned for more angsty queer dramatic romance. I promise, there will be some fluffy love between the leading ladies soon.