⌁ Thunder ⌁ Lana Del Rey Fanfiction

chapter twenty: explanations

My mother was gone from this world. Nothing felt real, nothing else mattered.

Gone.

_________________

Adrenaline.

It comes at the best of times, but also the worst. That night turned into a haze—and a phantom pain persists when I think back on it. My heart was in a state of disrepair. In all senses.

I remember having trouble breathing, or even keeping steady. I don't even know how I managed to call my father. Even less do I remember how the conversation went. Though, I do know that I didn't tell him what was going on until he drove his way to me. I wouldn't have been able to do it sober or intoxicated while having a panic attack nonetheless. Pushing through was my only option, no matter how painfully difficult it would be.

I saw the headlights of his car pull over at the opposite side of the road. I remember that terrified look in his eyes, for me. Not knowing that it wasn't me who he needed to worry about, that the both of us were losing someone else thousands of miles away. I remember hearing the crackle of the bottle I shattered under his footsteps, and how he frantically tried to open my door.

I jumped out of the car and leaped into his arms. "What's wrong?" His voice was shaky, but he tried his best to seem like he was calm. He was so clueless, it broke my heart even more. I remember asking myself in my head, why me? why did it have to be me, who the words would come out of? What cruel world is this?

"D-Dad..." I paused to cry even more into his chest.

He roughly pulled me away from him by the shoulders. "What?" I knew he didn't mean to be so rough, I knew that it was only because he was terrified. He must've had that bad feeling eating him up inside as well.

And so I told him. The red tinge of color left his cheeks, his eyes fluttered as he tried to process my words. I saw his fingers run through his hair in distress. He couldn't look me in the eyes, and i'm glad he didn't because I wouldn't have been able to bear it.

He called people. Family. The in-laws. They wouldn't pick up. I called too, but to no avail. We were dying just a little more inside every time the voicemail messages would play.

My father took us home. I booked us flights back to Spain, that of which weren't cheap, because you know how it goes during the holidays. I was lucky to even find us some. But, I was thankful that I did.

He didn't say a word to me that entire night of waiting. He locked himself up in his room, leaving me in silence. And I couldn't stop thinking of the call I had with her. Was it all just some cruel joke by her, or one of her manic sprees of inflicting as much harm on everyone before she signed off after all?

My friend, Irene, gave me the answers to the resolution hours into my night. My mother had done what she did just minutes after calling to talk to me. I knew something was wrong, but I ignored it thinking things were turning for the better. The guilt was hitting me so hard. I felt so powerless.

Lana kept calling me nonstop. I deleted her number and blocked it. I felt like smashing everything to pieces, livid at both Lana and my mother for breaking me just minutes after the other.

I boarded that plane solemnly. My father hadn't comforted me. That made me grow angry with him, too. It was like his world froze, and he started to block me out. He didn't stop to think that that was my mother, too. It wasn't just his old lost love. I mattered too, and he looked right past me. I felt more alone than ever. I was sinking into my void deeper and deeper by the second.

Thinking about Lana just made it worse. I craved her comfort and warmth. The woman I fell in love with would know the right words to say to keep me going. I wanted her to tell me how none of this was my fault, because I felt like it was.