0 - Before.

21 0 0

by rem3984

by rem3984

I'm sick, mum says. She can't cope anymore. Nobody can. I'm polluting the house with my illness, and she's had enough with it. The thing is, my sickness isn't outward. It can't be fixed with quick and easy antibiotics, or popping a few paracetamol. It's, quite literally, all in my head. I'll be like this forever, and mum doesn't want anything to do with that anymore.

It started a few years back. My head got too much, I think. I couldn't handle the thoughts and all that shit. It's funny, because if I couldn't handle them then, I wonder what 12 year old me would be thinking right now. Not funny in a literal sense, but more-so funny in a 'thats fucking bonkers' way. I'm getting off track aren't I? Anyways, it went from crying at night to crying all the time, to feeling absolutely fucking nothing. I'm stuck in that constant cycle, I think.

It's not just that, in my mums defence. Because to be fair, dumping your child in a random town across the country for having a bit of a sob just wouldn't happen. I mean it could, but it'd be a mega shitty thing to do. No, it was more than that. It went from sobbing to screaming, to throwing and breaking shit. That's totally not including the countless hospital visits, drug use, therapy sessions, etc. I don't blame her, honestly. I'd cut myself off if I could aswell.

Right, getting to the main point. Past all that soppy shit. So, I have, like, family all over bloody England. Specifically, mum's sister, Anthea. They were well close, still are I think. We used to live in Bristol for 6 months with her and my uncle for a bit when I was younger, when shit got really bad between mum and dad. She runs off there sometimes, you know. To get away from me. Funny how it's the other way round now.

But yeah, my mum had been having one too many of these late night wine drunk phone calls to Anthea, and she had enough of mum's suffering. And you'll never guess what! Fucking saint Anthea offered to take me in, a weight off my mums shoulders if you will! Mum was hesitant, but thought it over and then finally offered it to me. I say offered, it was pretty much non-negotiable. Not that I care, fucking hate this town anyways, needed a change. Everything's so fucking boring.

So I packed my bags, (forcefully) fucked all my mates off (mum was proper pleased about that one, she called them all 'no good druggies'. Which is really fucking stupid by the way, because if I hang round with them, what does that say about her darling daughter?), and took the trains up to lovely Bristol!

Oh shit, wait, sorry, I don't think I've introduced myself to you yet, have I? My name's Sylvia Grace Stonem. Sylvie to my mates, and Gracie to my nan (and Anthea, sometimes. Don't know why she took a liking to the name.)

And also, before you start thinking I'm a total bitch, I don't hate my mum for any of this, but to be fair it doesn't make me feel any less unwanted by her.

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A/N:
Sorry for the short chapter ! I just thought I'd do a little backstory for Sylvie, and why she's gone to Bristol. Hope you guys enjoy!! (I don't expect this to get much attention, but I enjoy writing and have had this idea sitting for a while now haha)