Gia

happy birthday

-mentions of self harm-

Gia's POV

1...2...3...

i count in my head every five minutes. it's ten in the night. my room was dark. the only light you could see, is the light from my lighter. i'm not smoking. every count, was how long i could keep the flame of the lighter against my skin.

little red and purple spots were formed on my very pale skin. i find the burning sensation very tingly. the way my skin would stiffen with the hot feeling of the warm flame. i hated that i came to this, but it's a nasty habit that makes me feel good. how is it any different to those who have wax kinks? hot wax against someone's skin sexually is kinda like a burning flame against your skin.

i'm in pain, my adoptive father can't see that. billie can't see that. no one can see that. my mom would've caught on so fast. my mom was always on my ass about things like this. she always wanted me to know about stuff like self harm, substance abuse, sex. she warned me about the negative sides to these topics. i'm disappointing her, and it gave me more of a motive.

all i've ever wanted was to make my mom proud. i wanted to ask her if she was proud of me. i wanted her to watch me graduate high school. i wanted her to help me move to college. i wanted her to meet my future kids. i wanted to have her forever. and i know that's a fantasy, but all i want is my mom. and i can't have her.

i hate people who are so rude to their mothers. they should be more grateful they have a mom. people like me, we don't get those chances to even hug our mom again. id kill for one of my moms hugs. they were warm and comforting and loving. people talk back to their mothers like if she's their friend. it isn't hard to at least give some respect to the woman who put you here. shame on them.

1...2...3...

i winced at the pain. i decided that was enough for now. i placed the lighter on my desk near my jar of pre rolls. i sat up and lifted up my sweats. i wanted to sleep forever and one day just wake up in my moms arms again. you don't recover from something like that. i never really knew my father, so i can't say the same for him. sometimes i wish i did know more about my father. i wonder what he was like.

i stayed under the covers with my eyes wide open. i'm seventeen in two hours. seventeen years. that's old. i feel like im not gonna make it to see twenty. but seventeen is crazy to me. i've survived seventeen years in world where everyone can die tomorrow and i can be left here alone. that's a scary thing to really think about.

the world is fucked up. coming up with diseases can kill people for absolutely no reason but because it can. i lost my mom to that. i used to want to be like my mom. high end model, she left a huge legacy for the modeling industry. everyone calls me Gia, my names Galilea, my mom nicknamed me Gia. i was named after her mom, my grandma, whom i've also never met.

my moms name was Gia, my adoptive father chose to legally change my name for me when i asked him to. i was thirteen. he gave me his last name too. i wish he didn't though. Gia Gomez doesn't sound right. if i had stayed Galilea i think it would've sounded right. Galilea Gomez. i'm not that person though. i'm not gonna pretend to be someone i'm not.

-

3...2...1...

"happy birthday to me" i mumbled to myself at exactly twelve. i never really liked my birthday. i loved them when my mom was around, she'd make it special. she'd take me to her job, take me shopping, she'd bake with me. i always loved baking with my mom, since she died, i haven't baked in six years. i'm probably not going to either.

my adoptive father never did stuff like that with me. he taught me the amazingness of cars. i started working at this mechanic company when i was fifteen. we don't really talk, it's weird. five years with him and i don't know that much about him. he's not like a father, he's more like a roommate. i dunno. i can't do anything about it.

he's weird though. he's in his late thirties with no wife, no girlfriend, no actual kids of his own other than me. i don't know any of his family. i don't know who i'm living with. it's super weird. i kinda don't know why he adopted me, he doesn't even care. i don't even think he knows todays my birthday. and i don't wanna say anything about it either.

i hate this life. happy birthday Galilea. happy birthday Gia. happy seventeen years.