FINDING US (BEFORE THE BEGINING)

CHAPTER 9

LAYLA

I stare at the ceiling looking at the crown molding that wraps my bedroom's light gray walls. It's been a week of constant staring. I think I'd be more productive if I were thinking of something this whole time but I wasn't and I'm still not. The only time I allow my brain to get carried into thought is when I can't help it.

When I fall asleep.

So, I'm just laying here on the brink of hallucination going on endless hours of no sleep longer than 30-min. Is it healthy? No. But is grief always healthy? Still, No.

But my staring fest is interrupted when I see Sicily open the door with an empathetic look on her face. Sicily has been my "nanny" since I was a year old, well that's what my parents have always called her but she's really Someone they hired to pretend I don't exist.

"Layla, your parents want to speak to you." Which means nothing ever good. Again my parents don't like to acknowledge my existence unless they have too.

I give her a nod and get up slowly ignoring the pain that rushes to the front of my head. It is likely from the constant crying and the lack of water consumption and sleep to make up for it. But you know, who knows.

I make my way down the steps slowly trying to avoid the fight that is most likely going to happen.

I can't really blame my mom too much. I mean
she didn't ask for this life. She wanted to live in Chicago, be a model, and use daddy's money to feel on top of the world. But the modeling world isn't forgiving to women who get knocked up in their teens and their body doesn't bounce back like they do online. And... you can't really use daddy's money when he cuts you off once he realizes you got knocked up by someone you actually loved and not someone he picked out for his precious baby girl to marry for the sole purpose of making more money.

But my mom has the money back so you can guess how that worked out.

I was a year old when we moved in with my grandparents and I was a year and 2 months old when my mom got married to... arranged marriage guy. My "Dad"

Dad was happy to have kids until he found out that my mom had less than 1% chance of getting pregnant again naturally... from him. Which also meant he wasn't getting a son. After that I think he decided kids weren't all that great.
I open the doors that lead to the kitchen. Sicily doesn't have to tell me where to go. It's always the same place.

I look at my mom and dad sitting at the table. My dad stares out the window with a Saturn face and my mom is looking down at her nails, probably not wanting to be here.

"You called for me?" My dad turns towards me not a muscle changing until he speaks

"Layla, I think It's time for you to head back to school again." I stand there speechless and he takes that as a sign to continue. "I think we've had enough of your moping around and it's time you get up and do something protective like continuing your education."

"it's been a week"

"That's exactly w-"

"Dad it's been a week since I found my best friend dead on her bathroom floor. And the first thing you ask me in 4 days is not how I'm doing but to stop moping around because it isn't productive enough for you"

"Layla, don't be so sensitive that a deranged girl is hardly worth anybody's time. She set herself up once she told her parents she was a di-

"Robert!" My mom yells out loud. My dad quickly turns to her her and you can see her physically back off

"Beth you know better than to interfere this conversation does not pertain to you!!" He yells out, his voice radiating off the walls. I see my mom flinch the slightest bit.