Status: enjoy.
Postcards and Polaroids
Chapter 22.
Kellin’s P.O.V
I quickly ran upstairs before my mom had enough time to stop me. I slammed the door, locking it, and plopped onto my bed. I could feel the tears coming. I quickly wiped them away. I don’t get it. Why didn’t she want to be with me? What was so wrong with me? What was so wrong with us being together? Was she embarrassed of me?
I hid my face in my pillow. It wasn’t fair. Just this once I thought maybe something would work out for me.
I replayed us in my hospital room together, how she kissed me, how she wrapped her arms and legs around me. I don’t understand why she could so easily be like that, and then not want to be with me.
I heard crashing downstairs. I sighed and got up. Halfway down the stairs, I could hear my mom screaming at my sister. I moved faster.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Celine ran into my arms. I picked her up, and looked over at my mother, who of course was holding a half empty bottle of beer, which I’m guessing wasn’t her first of the evening.
“And where have you been?” She yelled. The sound of her voice made me cringe.
“Don’t worry about it.” I said. I gently put Celine down. She ran up to her room.
“You were out with that little bitch of your’s weren’t you.” She yelled. I felt the rage in me building up. I usually had patience for my mother’s ignorance about Jess.
“She’s not a bitch.” I said sternly. She laughed.
“Please!” She said. “You’ve seen her house, and her mother is no better. Nothing but stuck up bitches who think they’re better than everyone else.”
“Well maybe they are, mom! I don’t see her mom coming home, getting drunk everyday!” I stormed off, but not before she could get a good handful of my hair, yanking me back.
“What did you say to me?” She yelled into my face. I tried backing away from the loud shrieking scream and the stench of alcohol. She only yanked harder.
“You heard me!” I yelled. That probably wasn’t the best idea. She threw my down onto the floor, and proceeded to throw her empty bottles at me as I bolted for the door. I’d be lucky to only get away with the few scratches and bruises that would soon form.
And just like that, it felt like no one wanted me.
I quickly ran upstairs before my mom had enough time to stop me. I slammed the door, locking it, and plopped onto my bed. I could feel the tears coming. I quickly wiped them away. I don’t get it. Why didn’t she want to be with me? What was so wrong with me? What was so wrong with us being together? Was she embarrassed of me?
I hid my face in my pillow. It wasn’t fair. Just this once I thought maybe something would work out for me.
I replayed us in my hospital room together, how she kissed me, how she wrapped her arms and legs around me. I don’t understand why she could so easily be like that, and then not want to be with me.
I heard crashing downstairs. I sighed and got up. Halfway down the stairs, I could hear my mom screaming at my sister. I moved faster.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Celine ran into my arms. I picked her up, and looked over at my mother, who of course was holding a half empty bottle of beer, which I’m guessing wasn’t her first of the evening.
“And where have you been?” She yelled. The sound of her voice made me cringe.
“Don’t worry about it.” I said. I gently put Celine down. She ran up to her room.
“You were out with that little bitch of your’s weren’t you.” She yelled. I felt the rage in me building up. I usually had patience for my mother’s ignorance about Jess.
“She’s not a bitch.” I said sternly. She laughed.
“Please!” She said. “You’ve seen her house, and her mother is no better. Nothing but stuck up bitches who think they’re better than everyone else.”
“Well maybe they are, mom! I don’t see her mom coming home, getting drunk everyday!” I stormed off, but not before she could get a good handful of my hair, yanking me back.
“What did you say to me?” She yelled into my face. I tried backing away from the loud shrieking scream and the stench of alcohol. She only yanked harder.
“You heard me!” I yelled. That probably wasn’t the best idea. She threw my down onto the floor, and proceeded to throw her empty bottles at me as I bolted for the door. I’d be lucky to only get away with the few scratches and bruises that would soon form.
And just like that, it felt like no one wanted me.