These Words to Her

As much as I tried to, I couldn't make sense of anything. I couldn't get over what Brian had said, no matter how many times I told myself that I'd known the truth all along. So I didn't go home. Peter didn't want to speak to me and I could understand why even if it hurt, and there was no way I was going back to Michelle and Brian's house. Not after what happened. I had considering going back to Hannah's house - my real home - but knew that I could be found there.

If I never saw Brian or Michelle again, it would be too soon.

At first I thought sleeping rough was going to be tough, but I only spent the first night without a place to sleep. I got in touch with a friend who was a year older than me and dropped out much to her parents' disgust. She ended up being kicked out and lived alone, so I asked whether her sofa was free. She worked as well so I spent most of my days alone, sitting in her sitting room under the blanket she had given me to sleep under. It didn't bother me, being alone. In fact, it was oddly comforting. I didn't even have my phone to keep my company as it died within the first night and I hadn't bothered to ask whether she had a charger I could borrow. Besides, I didn't want to be reached.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't angry.

If I were being honest with myself, I didn't know what I was feeling. I wanted to be angry - at Brian, at Michelle, and even at Hannah - but there was nothing within me that would muster up that emotion. The best I could describe my feelings was that I was empty. That I just didn't feel anything. I say that I'm hurt by Peter not wanting to see me, but the truth was that I didn't feel anything about him not wanting to see me. I had spent far too long being angry that now I just couldn't feel anything, but I knew that if anyone bothered to ask me, I'd lie and say I was angry. It was the easiest thing to do.

It was getting harder and harder to pretend that anger was my only emotion, though. Sure, Hannah had realised that my anger was too severe for myself which was why she put me into anger management during school time, but it wasn't my automatic reaction to things I can't handle. It is, however, my protection, the reaction I use to keep my feelings to myself and not expose them to people. That was something I had been told about in one of the anger management sessions, and I had to say that I agreed with her. But I never once divulged the information as to why I used anger as a protection, not matter the prodding.

Midday had been and gone when I was interrupted by my friend returning. I wasn't expecting her as she normally returned in the evening so I was surprised to say the least. "You never did tell me why you needed my sofa," was the first thing she said when she walked through the front door.

I looked up from where I was lying on her sofa. "What have you heard?"

"You're a runaway."

Sighing, I sat up and shimmied to the other end of the sofa. "Have you said anything?"

She shook her head. "Not my place to say. Obviously something must have happened for you to not want to go home," she said, sitting on the other end. "It's strange, though."

"What is?"

"You've been here a week and I've only just heard word that you've runaway. I guess it could have been slow reaching my ears but you're down as an official runaway, reported to the police and everything. Surely I should have heard something before now?"

To be honest, I wasn't surprised that it had been a week and they had only just reported me as a runaway. It reminded me of when it came to signing guardianship over to Hannah - they did it with as little interference as possible to ensure that less people knew about it. Hannah threatened to go through the courts and bring everything out into the open if they wanted to be awkward about it, but instead Brian and Michelle signed their rights over and then spent the subsequent years blaming me for their actions. Now they probably thought it'd blow over, that I'd return the day after - except that didn't happen and they probably kept telling themselves 'the next day' until I just didn't turn up.

It's funny how Brian could be this active member of a band that he's nurtured for over ten years, withstanding a band member's death, and yet when it comes to his own child, he failed. He couldn't even try to be nurturing to me. It's ironic considering he's admired by so many fans and yet they won't ever experience what it's like to actually live with him and know that you'll never be good enough for him. That you'll never be the perfect daughter he thinks he's entitled to.

My friend broke the silence by standing up and stretching. "Well, I'm just glad I'm not you. Want a sandwich?" she offered.

"Sure, as long as it's peanut butter."

I watched as she went into the kitchen before glancing over to where my phone sat. A part of me wanted to charge it up and message Peter but I know I couldn't. He didn't want to see me - he'd made that much clear - and I didn't want to be found just yet. I needed more time away from everyone, more time to try and process what had happened the last time I saw Brian and Michelle. I had to be ready to face them before I left, but I wasn't sure how I'd know. How does someone face the man who was supposed to be their father when he said he wished they'd aborted you?

Part of me hoped I'd never be ready to face them, but I knew I couldn't stay here forever.