Don't Care If I Sound Crazy (A Daltiana Story)

~Chapter 118~

tw ⚠️

later that day...

"Francesca, can your dad and I talk to you?" I knocked on her bedroom door.

"Y-yeah, come in," she replied. I opened her bedroom door and we went inside her room. She was sitting on her bed, looking very vulnerable. Dalton and I sat down on her bed on either sides of her. I told Dalton what I saw earlier today, so we decided to have a talk with her.

"So, Francesca," I started, "earlier today, I saw something I wasn't happy about. I saw cuts on your wrist. Please be honest with us, have you been cutting yourself?"

She didn't respond. She just looked down and stayed quiet.

"Francesca," Dalton said softly, "please be honest with us. We promise we won't judge you, we just want to help you, so please answer us, have you been cutting yourself?"

She lightly nodded and bursted into tears. Dalton wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"H-how long have you been doing this?" I asked her as my own tears threatened to spill out.

"A week," she said quietly. My heart shattered, causing my tears to spill out. She had been suffering in silence all along. I felt like I failed as a parent. I wrapped my arms around her and let her cry onto my chest.

"I'm so sorry," my voice cracked, "I didn't know you were suffering in silence."

"I-it's okay Mom," she said quietly, "I don't want to be a burden."

"Francesca, listen to me," Dalton said, "you are never a burden. Asking for help doesn't make you a burden. If you have urges to cut again, please tell me or your mom, we'll be there for you to help you feel better."

"I'll try," she mumbled, looking down.

"Francesca, do you want to know something?" Dalton asked. She looked up and lightly nodded.

"Your mom used to cut herself too," he started, "she had a long battle with depression. Depression nearly took her away from me 14 years ago, and we wouldn't want it to take you away from us. After surviving her attempt, she started going to therapy and would tell me whenever she had urges. Trust me, talking about it helps a lot."

"Y-you used to cut too?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I answered, rolling up the sleeves of my hoodie to show her my scars. She remained silent.

"What did you use to cut yourself?" Dalton asked her.

"I stole a new razor blade from your bathroom cabinet, I'm so sorry," she looked down.

"Hey, don't be sorry," Dalton said, "we understand what it's like, and we're willing to help you."

"Can you please hand us over that razor blade and everything else you can hurt yourself with?"

"O-okay."

She went to her bathroom and soon came back with a razor blade and scissors. She then handed them over to me. "Thank you."

"Please do tell us if you have urges, we really care about you, we don't want anything bad to happen to you," I said to her and she lightly nodded. Dalton and I pulled her into a group hug.

"Stay strong sweetheart," I whispered and kissed her head. "Thanks Mom."

We then decided to give her some time alone. We closed the door behind us and went back to our room.

"I failed as a mother," I mumbled, trying not to cry.

"Baby, don't say that," Dalton said. My tears poured out and he held me in his arms.

"S-she was suffering in silence," I sobbed, "I failed to be a good mother. I should've made sure she's alright after she told me she's bullied, I should've done something."

"Baby, baby, look at me," he gently lifted my chin, "you have done way more than enough for all our kids. You're an amazing mother, and I'm sure the kids are so grateful to have you as their mom. Depression is just really complicated baby, I'm sure you understand that. Someone's battle with depression is mostly invisible. It's not your fault that you didn't know, and it's not her fault either."

"I know, but I feel really guilty," I said quietly.

"Shhh... baby," he caressed my cheek and attached his lips onto mine. I buried my face on his chest and he rubbed my back.

"You're the best mom and wife at the same time," he whispered into my ear, "you're amazing."

He wrapped his arms around me and softly kissed my forehead. He made me feel safe and comfortable all the time.

"I love you baby," I mumbled onto his chest.

"I love you more little one," he lightly smiled.

***

"Mom? Dad?" Imogen called. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong with Francie? She seems really gloomy."

"Imogen, this isn't easy, but she had to leave school early today because she got bullied. It had been going on for a while, and we found out earlier today that she had been cutting herself," Dalton explained and she went silent for a brief moment.

"Who the fuck hurt her?" she raised her voice. She had always been really protective of Francesca.

"My crazy ex's daughter," Dalton muttered.

"Fucking whore," she groaned, "I'm gonna beat the shit out of her."

"I know they're both crazy, that's why we're homeschooling her for the rest of elementary school," I sighed.

"Mom, is she gonna be okay?" she asked, as her tears threatened to spill out.

"I don't know, we're both worried about her, we're planning to send her to therapy," I answered.

"Please do, I don't want to lose her the way I almost lost you," she started to cry. I wrapped my arms around her body and she sobbed onto my chest. She was starting to hyperventilate, indicating that she's having a panic attack. She must've been having flashbacks, since a single thought about my suicide attempt was enough to send her straight into a panic attack. It's been 14 years, but she's still fighting really hard to heal from her trauma.

"M-Mom, don't l-leave me," she sobbed.

"Piccolina, I'm not leaving, take a deep breath for me."

"I c-can't."

"Little blossom, I need you to name three things you can see," Dalton said, but she couldn't seem to respond.

"I got this," I mouthed and he nodded.

"Don't go!" she sobbed over and over. She was hyperventilating and gasping for air. Her heart was pounding quickly in her chest.

"Don't leave me!" she screamed and my heart shattered. It was all my fault that she had to suffer.

"I'm here Piccolina, I promise I won't leave you again," I cooed. I held her closer to my chest and gently rubbed her back like how I would comfort her when she was little. I started singing her favorite song as a kid. In no time, her breaths and heartbeat started to slow down. She was starting to calm down. By the time I finished singing the song, her tears had stopped flowing and had dried up. I placed a soft kiss on her head.

"I love you so much," she sniffled.

"I love you more, Piccolina."