As It Was (COMPLETED) (wattys2023)

Life In Technicolor

The moment I stepped foot inside the house both my parents and the deputies looked to me. Relief crossed my father's face, the two officersstraightened and headed for the door, but Mom just remained on the arm of the couch, gnawing on her fingernails as she watched Dad close the door behind them. I waited until Dad had locked the door behind them to throw my hands up in exasperation.

"Seriously?"

Mom finally shook herself from her trance and looked to me in the center of the living room. "We had no idea where you were, Everly. You weren't answering our calls or texts."

I looked between them, an emotionless laugh breaking passed my chapped lips.

"So you guys decide to care now? Or were you just worried it'd just add to the list of things you feel guilty for if I didn't come back home?"

"We love you, Evie." Mom said, standing. The action was so quick that she nearly fell face first into the carpet at my feet, and likely would have if Dad hadn't reached out to steady her. "I. . .I can't lose you too."

I crossed my arms over my chest, tears stinging my eyes as I watched her body tremble under my father's touch. A once incredible strong woman that would work double shifts and still manage to be up and ready to get us to school was crumbling before me.

"Since you obviously haven't come to the outstanding conclusion because you've been so caught up in babying a murderer, you lost me a long time ago, Mom." I took a step froward, closing the distance between myself and my parents. "And I think deep down you know it too. I think you felt it the moment I forced myself out of that school, clinging on to life. I wasn't your daughter, not anymore. I was just the shell of the girl I used to be."

My mom averted her gaze to the carpet. "Everly, honey—"

"Do you know who did this to me, Mom? Do you?" my voice rose with every word that escaped me. "Your precious son. He beat me, he shot me, he traumatized the ever-living shit out of me, but you choose to still parent him over the child that's still here, right in front of you."

She opened her mouth once more, attempting to respond, but I pointed my finger at her accusingly and interrupted before she could get a word out.

"I know it would have been easier for the both of you if I'd died that day. You wouldn't have to pretend everything is okay, you wouldn't have to parent this. . . this zombie I've become. You would be able to go play Mommy Dearest to Clark without feeling any remorse or guilt. You would be free."

Dad cleared his throat and looked at me with guilt entering his eyes. "You know that's not true, Evie."

"Don't even get me started on you, Dad! No, you didn't force Clark's hand in the decision he made, but you sure as hell didn't make him a better man. Everywhere he went, every step he took, he had to look over his shoulder for your fist." I shouted. "You want the cold, hard truth? You're right. You did have a part in what Frankie and Clark did. So did I. So did half the school! There is no speculation anymore if we knew he'd do what he did, if he showed signs, but come on, Dad. We aren't oblivious, as much as we try to act like we are. Deep down we knew something wasn't right with him and we were just too afraid to admit it to ourselves."

Mom had fallen into another one of her breakdowns in Dad's arms, and every word that left me had his face growing a deeper shade of red.

"That is enough, Everly Hope!" he snapped through his teeth.

I ignored his comment and pressed my index finger against my chest, "In case either of you were wondering, I wish I died that day too. The entire week I laid in that hospital room in agonizing pain, both mental and physical, I prayed to God and begged him to take me too. To free me from the horror I was living through every moment of every fucking day. I thought that with time I'd get better, that maybe by the grace of God that I'd wake up one day and be ok. But I'm not. I'm not okay! I'm not progressing! I'm not getting better! I still can't eat or sleep or breathe right. I get flashbacks every day of that day, I see Miles' brains all over the tile every time I shut my eyes. And I hear the screams. Oh, the screams I hear, the pleas for help. I just want it to stop!"