Mockingbird

Chapter 2

MEL POV:

I inhaled again as I exited Lucy's vehicle and opened the door to my home. I slowly took off my hoodie, leaving only a sports bra and jeans on. I like wearing it to move around the house. It's not like they can see me. My father was unconscious in front of the TV when I cautiously made my way to the living room on crutches. Otherwise, where would he be? "Sweet dreams, dad," I said as I covered him with a blanket.

Although I adore him, my father only works at night and sleeps throughout the day. As a "night" assistant, he works for a businessman. Actually, I have no idea what he does; all I know is that he earns a substantial sum of money. No one knows, but I still hope it's not against the law. In the end, he is a decent man.

He's merely aloof now that my father expelled my mother from the house since she became a drug addict in order to keep me safe. I haven't seen her in close to 4 years. To me, she is indeed dead. He no longer attends my football games, and we no longer share a meal or watch the Lionesses play, but we both still cheer loudly whenever Ellen White or Beth Mead scores. Now, we only exchange greetings and exchange money when we see one other. My "happy" dad is now just a robot, and I miss him. But even so, I would die for him.

I despise the fact that I would sacrifice anything for the individuals I care about. I didn't even notice that tears were beginning to fall from my eyes and down my cheeks. I swiftly remove them off the path and grab my crutches to head to my room.

When I opened the door to my room, I was met with a mess. I mean, clothes everywhere, smashed glass from yesterday. This is because I got so frustrated with math homework that I needed to vent. The glass got in my eye. I think it's safe to say that it was kissed by Alexia Putellas, whose poster hangs on the wall in my room. Because I was too tired to clean the glass all over the floor, I chose to walk carefully and quickly past it rather than clean it myself. 

I set the crutches next to my bathroom door and slowly made my way to the toilet, supporting myself on the sink next to it. Truth be told, I despise those crutches more than I despise eating anything from the school kitchen. While I was doing my business, my thoughts drifted back to therapy. Lucy was so kind to me for no reason. She doesn't even know me, yet she tried to have a conversation with me. I lied when I said I was not a fan of the Lionesses. I love them so much. I would also love to play for them one day. 

However, with this ACL injury that happened 12 months ago and with no progress, I don't think I want to play anymore. My injury occurred during one of the first games of last year at my school; a girl decided that I was too athletic and tackled me on the ground while taking my knee right into her path. I literally heard a crack in my knee. I knew it was terrible, but I still hoped it wouldn't be anything that serious. 

How wrong I was. In the months leading up to surgery, I started physical therapy. This was fun at first, but it got difficult when I was supposed to start walking. My knee just couldn't hold me. Therefore, they sent me for an X-ray and so many other tests that I can't even remember. To everyone's surprise, nothing was wrong. My dad said that it could be some mental game from my brain, or from God that he doesn't want me to play anymore. Which we can all agree is the most ridiculous thing ever.

Also this injury has caused a lot of arguments between my dad and I, because I am just so frustrated and angry all the time about it. As a result, whenever my father asks me if I need help, I always say no. He then pushes and pushes until we start yelling at each other and eventually he walks out of the situation.

I thought about it for maybe another five minutes and when I finally snapped out of my thoughts, I found myself back in my bedroom. I didn't even remember getting out of the bathroom.

I sit on my chair and slide to my desk where I have my notebook with my homework from biology. I like biology. It's so interesting to me to be learning about my body, because I am starting to understand my body and muscles better. I had to write a two-page essay on muscle injuries... How authentic! After taking a deep breath, I started working on the task at hand.  

It was the sound of the voice next to me that woke me up from a soundless sleep on my desk. I quickly turned around and saw my father standing at the doorway staring at me intently.

„Jesus! You scared the crap out of me." I told him half laughing.

„ Sorry birdy, I didn't know writing an essay had a sleep on the notebook part."

BIRDY... that was his nickname for me. When I was a child, I was so obsessed with parrots and pigeons that my father called me one. Looking at it now, it's a weird nickname.

"Haha, very funny. I was just... you know... resting my eyes."

 "I'm heading to work now, get some sleep at a reasonable hour and--" I cut him off, "Yes, I get this from you every night. Have a nice night, dad," he just smiled at me and walked away. Turning my head, I started working again.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hi, i hope you enjoyed this chapter, I will try to write often, but my school really keeps me from updating my stories, but i will try my best. 

Feel free to leave a comment or vote if you like it.

Have a best day, evening, morning. Remember I love you all so much <3