Being with Richie was one of the worst things I'd ever done. He was heartless and cruel; with a 'love' that ruined me entirely.
"God knows what is hiding in those weak and drunken hearts. I guess the loneliness came knocking, no one needs to be alon...
"Because of you, I never stray too far from the sidewalk. Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt. Because of you, I try my hardest just to forget everything. Because of you, I don't know how to let anyone else in. Because of you, I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty. Because of you, I am afraid."
Chapter Theme Song: 'Because of You' by Kelly Clarkson.
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TW: Mentions of Abortion.
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Becca
It was three weeks later and I was still having terrible flashbacks. They were worst at night. Richie came over often, wanting to make me feel 'comfortable' again, but that wasn't remotely possible.
The good part of it all was that he didn't try to touch me sexually. We kissed, which often made my skin itch awfully, but that was about it.
And the other good part was, though the thoughts were recurring, I felt just a little better than I'd felt a few weeks ago.
Mom was dancing with Dad around the kitchen when I came down for breakfast one morning. It felt good to not see her crouched over a toilet that early, throwing up while Dad bundled her hair around his fingers. Morning sickness. And I felt as though I was being affected by it. For the past week, I'd been feeling terribly nauseous, kept falling asleep in class, and I couldn't find the energy to do a lot of things. When Mason came over on Sundays, I was always deep in sleep. He didn't mind, though, he didn't like me anyway.
"What are you guys doing?" I giggled, putting my bag on the kitchen island, trying not to cringe from the sweetness in the air. Ever since Mom's pregnancy, they'd been acting sickeningly sugary toward each other.
"Dancing. What does it look like?" Dad waggled his greying eyebrows as Mom threw her head back in laughter. I made my face up in a half-cringe, half-smile sort of way while my father leaned down to place a chaste kiss on my mother's lips. It almost made me throw up. My stomach hissed with the need to vomit, but it wasn't like my parents' affection made me that disgusted.
There was something pungent—something smelly coming from somewhere. It was the same scent that had me vomiting for hours on end the night before. I twisted my lips, scrunching my nose as I looked around the kitchen, determined to locate the horrible scent.
"What is that?" I was almost angry. The nausea was coming on again.
"What is what?" Mom giggled as Dad buried his stubbled face into her neck.
"That smell..."
"Oh." Mom broke away from my father, sweeping away her bangs, now damp with sweat, from her forehead. "Stewed pork and mashed potatoes! You didn't have any last night, so I'm warming it up for you." She walked to the stove, while I placed a finger beneath my nose. Stewed what? "It's your favorite, so we couldn't finish it until you take a bite~" She was dancing again, while Dad strolled up to her from behind, reaching down to grope her bottom. She squealed like a school girl, and this time I could taste the vomit on my tongue.
