Through Thick & Thin (SkeppyxReader)

Chapter 3

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror.

    It was finally the weekend and that meant I was done with school for two days. Although, that also meant that I would have to be at home with my father for a lot of those two days, but I'd be fine as long as I did my best to avoid him.

    Yesterday, on Friday, Brigit invited me to a party that was happening later this afternoon at one of her friends' house. She had already given me all the information, and I was debating with myself whether or not I should go.

    On the one hand, I didn't want to let her down or be rude, plus, I might be able to make some new friends. But on the other hand, I didn't want to leave my bed, let alone my house. I just wanted to lay in my bed and never see anyone ever again.    

    I heard my father yelling something from upstairs, but I did my best to ignore him. I just looked in the mirror and cringed as I saw the bags under my eyes. My hair was quite messy and my eyes were dull from not having much sleep.

I looked down at the kitchen knife laying on the counter before me.

It was all my fault she died?

I reached down and touched it lightly.

It probably was, wasn't it.

I gripped it tightly in my grasp.

I'm such a disappointment, aren't I?

I lifted it up slowly and gently pressed it against my wrist.

Father's right, I'm a disgrace to humanity.

I pushed it a bit harder against my skin, wincing as it drew a slight bit of blood.

I should just leave this world entirely. I mean, it's not like anyone actually wants me here.

I swiftly slid it across my wrist, creating a large scarlet cut in its path. I quickly threw it onto the counter and pushed it away from me harshly.

Why am I doing this to myself?! What would mother think?! If she were here, she'd probably be so disappointed in me. I sighed.

I turned my back to the counter and walked quickly out of the bathroom. My father was out of the house for who knows how long so I had the house to myself. I walked down the hall toward my bedroom. I sat down on my bed and looked over at the english paper that was due first period on Monday. I'll do it tomorrow. I thought.

I layed down on my bed, thinking about life. My eyes were trying to close but I forced them to stay open. I had a huge headache from not sleeping enough and I couldn't think straight. I decided to just close my eyes for a little bit. It's not like I'm going to miss anything, right?

I woke up and opened my eyes, immediately shutting them as bright light blinded me. My eyes soon adjusted and I sat up slowly, putting a few stray strands of hair behind my ear.  I looked down at my watch. 6:00. The party started at 7 so I still had awhile.

Suddenly, I heard the door open and I winced. He's back. I heard him walk right into the house without taking his shoes off. He walked straight toward the stairs that led over to my room and I prayed he wouldn't come into my room. Just as he was about to reach my room, he turned and rushed into the bathroom.  I heaved a sigh of relief. He closed the door behind him, but didn't lock it. I could hear him throwing up loudly and I tried to tune it out.

How much did he drink?

I put in some earbuds and started blasting music, trying to ignore the horrific sounds coming from the bathroom. I decided to start getting ready for the party. I slipped on a large black hoodie and ripped jeans. I put on some earrings that I thought looked nice, but weren't excessive. I put my dark brown hair in a braid.

Instead of waiting for my father to be done, I decided I would go to the other bathroom on the other side of the house. I quickly slipped past the bathroom, hoping he wouldn't hear me. Thankfully, he didn't. I darted up the stairs and rushed over to the other bathroom. I quickly walked inside and locked the door behind me.

I brushed my teeth and got ready. Once I was done, I opened the door and walked out. I slipped down the halls and over to the front door.

If I left now, I would be a few minutes early but I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from my father.

I almost reached the front door when I heard a deep voice call my name from behind me. "Y/N!" My father's voice echoed around the room and I slowly turned around and cowered under his harsh gaze. "Where are you going?" He demanded.

"T-to a p-party," I murmured, looking down at the ground, not making eye contact.

"A party?!" He laughed, slurring his words. "You think you're going to make friends there?!" He laughed again, and then became very serious, staring me down. "No one will ever want to be your friend. You hear me? You are a mistake, a failure. You are a disgusting b*tch that let her own mother die." He spat out the word mother and I winced at his harsh language.

"I'm s-sor-" I whimpered softly.

"Get the f*ck out of my house!" He screamed, interrupting me.

I quickly turned and rushed out the door. I tried to force the tears to not fall but it was no use. I Rushed out the door and shut it behind me, not looking back.

Am I really that bad? Should I even go to the party? People would probably be happier if I didn't show up.

I was about to turn to go a different direction, when I heard a voice calling my name. "Y/N, Y/N!" I looked over in the direction of the voice and saw Brigit running towards me.

"H-hi," I sighed, wiping my tears. I couldn't let anyone see me like this.

She ran up to me and stopped in front of me. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I murmured.

Does she actually care about me? No, I shouldn't get my hopes up. She's probably just being nice. It's not like she actually cares if I'm ok or not, right?

I looked up, expecting her expression to be annoyed, or even disgusted. When I looked up and made eye contact, I saw not annoyance nor disgust, but instead I saw... concern?

Does she actually care? I smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time. Someone actually cares about me?

"As long as you're sure," she smiled back at me.

I nodded and we began to walk down the street in the direction of the party.

We had some small talk, mostly about what we have been doing over the years. I mostly made up stories, trying my best to keep them realistic. I did mention that my mother died but I didn't say how, hoping she wouldn't ask about it. She gave me sympathy but, thankfully, didn't ask anything more, seeing I was obviously uncomfortable talking about the subject.

She quickly changed the subject and asked me why I moved here. I hesitantly scratched my neck, not wanting her to know about my father's struggle to find a job.

"Uh, we just decided that we wanted to change it up a bit and my dad knew someone here so we decided to move here," I muttered, hoping she wouldn't ask anything else related to my father.

Thankfully, we began talking about something completely different, and we actually had a few laughs.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

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