him.

~|Chapter 8|~

|Y/n|

(TW: mentions of death and sa.)

Life incessantly runs through our minds until our final moments arrive. Honestly, the fear of death grips me entirely; it's a genuine terror. I had this haunting dream where my cousin was in danger, an old man aiming a gun at her. I felt utterly powerless, vulnerable in that moment—I adore my cousin beyond words. Tears streamed down as he mercilessly shot her.

There was another dream, this time involving my dad. We strolled in a park, searching for my mum. Failing to find her, we returned home. A man, elderly, maybe in his late 60s, trailed us, wielding a broken wine bottle. I sensed impending danger. Inside, with my stepmom and half brother, panic overwhelmed me. It's a tumultuous struggle, torn between loyalty to my dad and my mum; divorced parents who constantly disparage each other. It's tough, navigating that dynamic, you know what I mean?

Simply being at school, walking home late at night, or navigating dark streets in town triggers thoughts of mortality within me. It's a persistent contemplation—I'm aware we can't predict our demise. Yet, this inexplicable feeling keeps haunting me. Will it be death by gunfire, a traumatic head injury, or a heinous assault followed by a brutal end? Perhaps a fatal accident on the road or drowning in the depths of the ocean or a lake. The horror of burning alive or enduring multiple knife wounds. The fear of being stabbed repeatedly, followed by further assault. Poisoning from food or drink—these thoughts swarm my mind. Maybe my fascination with crime shows like Criminal Minds has fueled these morbid ruminations. I've tasted the closeness of death once; it was during a near-drowning incident back in second grade. All eyes fixated on me during that moment of peril.

Deep, Deep down I know I shouldn't be thinking about death. I've done a lot of stupid things like smoking, drinking alcohol etc. Cause you know I want to live for the thrill. It's always been YOLO, you only live once so fuck it you're only a kid once in you're life right? So make the most of it.

It's been four months since I've seen my half brother.

I want to go visit him but I know I'm going to pulled back into that toxic environment in dads house. I feel like a bad sister. He's seen me at my worst. He's seen me cry. He's seen me be beaten by our dad. He has heard me yell, scream at our dad. He knows dad takes my phone away for no reason. He knows that dad yells at me for no reason. He knows everything and he's just six.

But yet when I didn't do something and he spilled a cup of water or lost something that was his. It's my fault. Cause as a big sister I always get the blame put on me. I love my half brother, I'm sure he doesn't mean it.

There was this one time I was breaking down. I was bawling my eyes out cause dad had just hit me and he comes into my room and hugs me as tight as he can. and whispers.

"it's ok y/n, don't cry"

I kissed him on the forehead.

I miss him. All the dirty looks I get when I'm walking outside with him makes me sick. He's just family. Yeah he was annoying but really he didn't deserve the life that he got. I feel bad for him. I truly do. Everything comes with a price right? and I paid mine.

There's a lot of things that I remember short recap?

I was abused most of my life.

H/n left me.

I lost 2 of my best friends that I was so close 2.

I still sh. (Self harm)