Status: Complete :')
Note to Self: Just Breathe
Arguments Sake
I woke up pretty quickly and saw it said midnight. I was lying naked on the bed with the two random guys who were sleeping and I slowly pulled myself away from them both, quickly getting dressed.
I saw used condoms from last night lying around in various points of the room and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were being a little responsible.
I had to call a taxi to take me home and I opened my phone to see I had messages off my father.
I ignored it like I had with most of his texts and paid the cab driver.
I walked inside my house and saw my father standing at the base of the stairs, his face bright red.
“Where have you been?!” He yelled.
“Out!” I yelled back.
“Who with?!”
“Aidan!”
“Why?!”
“Does it matter?!”
“Yes!”
“Then prepare to be disappointed!” I shouted for the last time, barging past him and storming up to my room.
He followed me upstairs. “Blake called; told me he saw you and Aidan going to a club,”
“And you believe him!?”
“You tell me, Willow!” He looked me straight in the eye. “You’re not my little girl anymore. I don’t know who you are, you’re not my daughter.” He said quietly.
“And you’re not my father! A father believes her daughter when she says she had been raped! A father would be there for her when she breaks up with her boyfriend! A father would hug his daughter after her brother has died. A father should love his daughter no matter what! But do you do any of that?! No! You’re not my father!” I screamed at him, tears streaming down my face.
“Willow...” he began.
“No! I don’t wanna hear you’re pathetic excuses. Don’t worry; when I turn 16, I’m out of here, then your precious daughter—the one you love—can come back with her rapist of a fiancée and you can all live happily ever after. Better yet, put me into a foster home, then I can leave now. Why the fuck would you start to care about me now, huh?! Now get out of my room, I can’t stand to look at you.”
I turned my back on him and went to sit on the balcony. Tears where streaming down my face and I heard my bedroom door close.
My life was just so fucked up. My family hated me, I was pregnant and I was a slag. I stopped caring about everything and everyone; I wasn’t me anymore. I always knew looking back at the tears would make me laugh, but I never knew looking back at the laughs would make me cry. At that moment a wall seemed to build up around me. I made a vow that I would never give my heart to anyone, just like I would no longer trust anyone. They all fuck you up in the end. Blake didn’t break me; he completely destroyed me.
Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. So it was up to me if I wanted to wallow in my life or do something about it. So I did what I knew, drugs.
I lit the spliff that I had nicked from the flat last night, inhaling it deeply. My mind immediately started to numb and I felt a sense of release. Fuck Blake.
You live, you laugh, you love, you learn.
You scream, you cry, you crash, you burn.
I saw used condoms from last night lying around in various points of the room and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were being a little responsible.
I had to call a taxi to take me home and I opened my phone to see I had messages off my father.
I ignored it like I had with most of his texts and paid the cab driver.
I walked inside my house and saw my father standing at the base of the stairs, his face bright red.
“Where have you been?!” He yelled.
“Out!” I yelled back.
“Who with?!”
“Aidan!”
“Why?!”
“Does it matter?!”
“Yes!”
“Then prepare to be disappointed!” I shouted for the last time, barging past him and storming up to my room.
He followed me upstairs. “Blake called; told me he saw you and Aidan going to a club,”
“And you believe him!?”
“You tell me, Willow!” He looked me straight in the eye. “You’re not my little girl anymore. I don’t know who you are, you’re not my daughter.” He said quietly.
“And you’re not my father! A father believes her daughter when she says she had been raped! A father would be there for her when she breaks up with her boyfriend! A father would hug his daughter after her brother has died. A father should love his daughter no matter what! But do you do any of that?! No! You’re not my father!” I screamed at him, tears streaming down my face.
“Willow...” he began.
“No! I don’t wanna hear you’re pathetic excuses. Don’t worry; when I turn 16, I’m out of here, then your precious daughter—the one you love—can come back with her rapist of a fiancée and you can all live happily ever after. Better yet, put me into a foster home, then I can leave now. Why the fuck would you start to care about me now, huh?! Now get out of my room, I can’t stand to look at you.”
I turned my back on him and went to sit on the balcony. Tears where streaming down my face and I heard my bedroom door close.
My life was just so fucked up. My family hated me, I was pregnant and I was a slag. I stopped caring about everything and everyone; I wasn’t me anymore. I always knew looking back at the tears would make me laugh, but I never knew looking back at the laughs would make me cry. At that moment a wall seemed to build up around me. I made a vow that I would never give my heart to anyone, just like I would no longer trust anyone. They all fuck you up in the end. Blake didn’t break me; he completely destroyed me.
Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. So it was up to me if I wanted to wallow in my life or do something about it. So I did what I knew, drugs.
I lit the spliff that I had nicked from the flat last night, inhaling it deeply. My mind immediately started to numb and I felt a sense of release. Fuck Blake.
You live, you laugh, you love, you learn.
You scream, you cry, you crash, you burn.