Imperfect

As soon as we walked inside the house my mother started on me. “All your luggage is gone. I cannot believe you. I’m sure you made no effort to save it. You look a wreck. What have you been doing to your hair? It’s a rat’s nest. I’m ashamed of you, Belle.”
I almost disappeared into myself, let her throw me back into the hole I’d begun to rise from. I almost let her control me again. Almost. Instead, I raised my head and said clearly, “Stop.” She paused and glared at me. “What?”
“Stop talking. Stop yelling at me. All you ever do is nag and yell and make me feel awful. You only care about yourself and how you look. I’m fucking sick of you screaming that I’m not good enough, making me feel useless. You will not have control over me again. You are not a good mother. It’s my life and I’ll live it my way. You-you are the one who broke our family, so just stop fucking talking,” I yelled.
My mother stood still for a second before her face twisted and she moved to stop me, as she’d often done. Two hands caught her wrist as I began to defend myself. Annalise and Jean-Paul. “She’s right, you know. You’re a terrible mom,” Annalise said softly. “Don’t hit her again,” Jean-Paul warned.
They let go of her and she staggered back, then stormed off. My father looked from us to her, shrugged, and followed Mom. “I want you all to leave me alone,” I said as I went to my room. I hurried inside and locked the door, sliding to the floor. I felt relaxed, truly relaxed, for the first time in years. I fell asleep immediately.

I woke up confused, expecting to hear the sounds of an asylum waking up. Instead, all I heard was the creaking of my house. I’d fallen asleep on the floor. I rolled over as the memories came back. The fire, Aven, my mother...I almost laughed when I realized that all I wanted right then was to be back in the asylum, where at least everything was steady.
There was an unfamiliar knock at my door. “Hello?” “It’s me. May I come in?” I was surprised to hear my father’s voice. “Uh, sure.” I got up to unlock the door and he stepped in, running a hand through his graying brown hair. I don’t often think about my father, to be honest. He’s been even less a part of my life than Mom.
I’ve always considered him the better parent though, because he’s never cruel, just....quiet, preoccupied with the business of his law firm. He settled on the edge of my bed and cleared his throat. “I know you just got home, and you’re mad as a hornet at us all, but I wanted to talk,” he said carefully, watching my face.
“Okay...” My father sighed and put his head in his hands. “I have not been a good father to you, Belle.” I shrugged, unable to deny that. “I’ve let Marie treat you...well, I’ve let your mother treat you like shit.” I shrugged again. “I’m just...I’m, uh, sorry, Belle.” I nodded and held my hand out He shook it, then stood. As he left he turned to me and said, “I don’t expect your forgiveness, but, uh, maybe we can try to hang out more,” he muttered awkwardly.
I gave him a small smile. “Sure, dad. We can try.” He nodded sharply and left the room. I fell back on my bad, staring at the stars that dotted my ceiling. I knew things would never be perfect in my family, but I was willing to make things better.

I mostly stayed in my room for the next few weeks. I wanted to be alone, to regather my thoughts. My friends from the asylum had contacted me, all but Aven. I thought about him often. I was introduced to a new therapist, and had been reapproved for my anxiety pills. It was June, so I took summer school classes to graduate high school. I avoided Annalise and Jean-Paul as much as possible. I didn’t want to forgive them, even if that asylum had helped me. Eventually, however, I softened.