Don't Waste Your Breath, It's Too Late

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” I asked dad as he came downstairs into the basement with a sad and confused expression on his face. I knew immediately something was wrong but I had no idea what. I stood up from my drum set that sat in the corner and walked over to him as he stood in front of the stairs.

“Eliza.” He said softly. “You need to come upstairs.”

I swallowed hard and nodded hesitantly before we started walking up the stairs. I followed him through the kitchen and into the living room. I spotted Val crying immediately as she sat on Matt’s lap with her head buried in his chest. Jimmy, Zacky, and Johnny also stood around the living room with a shocked and heartbroken expression spread across their faces.

“What’s going on?” I asked quietly, almost scared to hear their answer.

“Eliza, honey,” Dad started as he walked past me and turned to face me. “Something happened.”

“Stop beating around the bush and just tell me, damn it! What’s going on?” I demanded to know as I narrowed my eyes at him, not because I was angry with him but because I was worried shitless and he was taking his sweet ass time to tell me.

He sighed heavily and nodded. “It’s your mother, Eliza.” He said softly. “She uh… she’s gone.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I questioned, more than confused as to what he was telling me.

“Something bad happened.” He explained hesitantly. “She’s dead, Eliza.” He was forward and blunt, and at that moment I hated him more than anything because of it.

I shook my head as my eyes started tearing up. “You’re lying!” I protested, refusing to believe such a thing. “You’re lying!” I repeated.

Dad shook his head as he stepped forward and tried to wrap his arm around me. “No!” I shouted and shoved him away from me before running past him and out of the living room. I ran up the stairs two steps at a time, trying to get away from them as fast as I could. Once I reached my bedroom I slammed the door shut and turned the lock. I leaned back against the door as my lip started to quiver and the tears started to fall down. How could she be dead? I just talked to her the night before not even twenty-four hours ago. I slid down against the door onto the floor and buried my face in my hands as I choked back a sob. I lied and told her I hated her. I blamed her for Elijah’s death and told her she was a shitty mother. Now she’s dead. She’s never coming back just like Elijah.

I sniffled and wiped my face with the sleeve of my black sweatshirt. I stood up and walked over to my suitcase that sat next to my closet. I still hadn’t even unpacked it. I sighed as I kneeled down on my knees and unzipped my suitcase. I started digging through all of my clothes and things before I found exactly what I was looking for, my hefty razor blade. It was hidden so well and dad had never found it. I sat comfortably on the floor with my legs crossed before starring down at the shiny, sharp blade. It was so tempting. I wanted it so badly and I felt as if I needed it more than anything at that moment. I needed to calm myself down before I completely went off the deep end and just ended my life right then and there. I was addicted to cutting like it was a drug, and I needed my fix. I yanked on my sleeve pulling it higher and higher until my scars and old cuts were visible. Tears fell landing on my wrist as I placed the razor blade against my skin. From then on it was a night full of pain, blood, and tears.

--

I woke up the next morning on the floor. My eyes were sore from crying and my wrist throbbed from the deep cuts that now covered my wrist. I sighed as I stood up and stretched my body out, some of my stiffened bones cracking. I picked up the razor blade from the floor and placed it back in my suitcase where it originally was before walking into the bathroom. I gripped the sides of the bathroom counter as I looked up in the mirror. The broken, cold-hearted bitch that I saw starring back at me wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. I wasn’t supposed to end up the way I was. I shook my head and breathed in and out deeply. I pushed the thought out of my head before I started to wash up.

Thirty minutes later I was wearing fresh clothes and smelling nice. I walked downstairs quietly knowing it was pretty early and dad was most likely in bed. Much to my surprise though when I walked into the kitchen dad was sitting at the table with a mug of coffee in his hands. He was looking down at the table and hadn’t noticed me yet. Timidly I walked closer to the table while rubbing the side of my arm nervously.

“Dad,” I murmured softly.

He looked up from the table a bit startled with a tight frown tugging at his lips. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He stood up slowly from the table before walking closer and embracing me in a tight hug. Even though we had been fighting an awful lot I broke down and wrapped my arms around his torso.

“I’m so sorry, Eliza.” He apologized, his voice cracking.

I nodded and pulled away, knowing he really did mean that. “How did it happen?” I whispered, lowering my gaze to the floor.

“I don’t think you knowing at the moment would be a good idea, Eliza.” He said softly, protecting me from knowing.

“Please dad,” I begged. “I need to know.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. I could tell he didn’t want me to know, but I was going to find out one way or another so he might as well tell me. "She overdosed on some prescription pills. Alchohol was also involved.” He told me quietly. "They think it might have been suicide."

I took a large step back and closed my eyes. I immediately regretted making him tell me. She took her own life and I knew damn well why. It was my fault and there was no denying that. I would have to live with that for the rest of my life, and that shattered my heart. My brother was gone, and now my mother. The only person I had left was my dad, just the two of us.

“I’m sorry!” I cried, locking my eyes with his.

“What for?” He questioned with concern, his eyes slightly narrowed at me.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear while salty tears rolled down my cheeks. “It’s all my fault. I told her that she was a shitty mother and that Elijah’s death was her fault. I told her I hated her! And I didn’t even mean it! I didn’t mean a damn thing I said. I was just angry with her for sending me here. I’m sorry!” I explained, apologizing again. I felt like the worst daughter on the universe. Correction, I was the worst daughter on the universe.

Dad shook his head at me, disagreeing with what I had said. “It’s not your fault, Eliza. You can’t possibly be blaming yourself for this.” He said as he stepped closer and placed his hands on my shoulders, starring deep into my eyes.

“It is my fault! I shouldn’t have said those things when I knew damn well that I didn’t mean them. She killed herself because of me, dad. Her and Elijah don’t deserve to be dead. It’s not fair. I’m the one who should be dead, not them!” I believed that and meant every word I had said too. I deserved to be dead not them. Dad shook his head before embracing me in another tight hug, knowing that he couldn’t change what I was saying or how I felt about the entire thing.