Chap. 91

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Emma waved at Blake as he began driving down the road. All the cars that were once parked in front of her house were now gone. She guessed the party was over. Surely, if the party ended, one of her friends would have warned her that her parents were probably looking for her.

She reached inside her bra, looking for her phone. After digging around for a few minutes, she realized it was no longer there. She closed her eyes tightly, leaning her head back, letting out a sigh. She had left her phone in Blake's car. It had probably fallen out of her bra while she and Blake were having sex, and was now on the floor in the back seat. She let out a silent prayer that her friends didn't try to text her at any point, and that her parents were still oblivious to her leaving.

Turning the doorknob, she found it was tightly locked. "Well, fuck me then," she whispered, taking a step back and looking around. Of course, if her parents thought she was home, the door would be locked. Walking around the side of the house, she looked up at her room window. It was up. "Thank you, God," she said, holding her hands under her chin with a smile.

Looking down at her heels, she bent over and began taking off the painful shoes with a sigh. She hid them in the bushes. She would have to come back for them later because she definitely couldn't climb through her window in them. Taking a few steps back, she took a running jump, grabbing the ledge of her window, pulling herself up and through it into her dark bedroom.

She let out a sigh, putting her hands on her hips. Her lights were off, so she couldn't see a thing inside. Walking over to her lamp, she switched it on, filling the room with light.

"Emma, where on earth were you?" her mother said behind her. Emma quickly turned, seeing her mother and father sitting on her bed. Her father had her new laptop in his lap. "And where on earth did this come from?"

Emma was too shocked to say anything. What were her parents doing in her room at this time of night? Why the hell weren't they in their own room? It was past midnight. So many questions were running through her head.
"If you knew I wasn't home, why would you lock me out?" she said without really thinking first.

Her mother looked angry as she stood up. "I wanted to catch you red-handed so you couldn't lie your way out of this. Admittedly, I didn't think you would try to sneak back into your own house. I thought you would knock on the front door."

Emma pushed her hair behind her ear, her nerves getting the best of her. Her mother gasped, with a hand over her mouth, looking at her neck. Emma instantly knew what she was looking at and regretted moving her hair. She quickly tried to move her hair back to cover it. Her mother rushed up to her, stopping her hand.

"Where the hell did this come from? So, you're sleeping around now? You're too young for that, Emma! Are you seeing this, Gerald? This is unacceptable, Emma!"

Her father set the laptop on the bed, standing up. He walked closer, getting a better look at the deep purple bruise left on her neck by Blake. Disappointment covered his face. Emma could barely take it. She shook her head, pulling her hand out of her mother's tight grip. She looked between them, eyes starting to fill with tears.

"It's my life. I can do what I want. It's not like this party was really for me in the first place." She said this between grinding teeth, the tears threatening to fall. "This party was just to show off your shiny trophy. Is that why you're so mad I left? Because you couldn't drag me around, showing me off to all your friends all night long? You didn't give a damn about me, or at least that's how you act. You definitely don't care about my feelings or if I was having a good time! It was all about you both!"

Her mother looked at her, mortified, while her father just shook his head, running his hands down his face. Tears began to roll down her face. She freely let them fall. She was so frustrated and annoyed with both her parents. She was 18 now, and she was tired of them walking all over her like she couldn't make her own choices.

"It's that boy, isn't it? You're seeing that boy again. He gave those to you? Emma, can't you see he's using you? Did he give you all these gifts, too?" her father said, pointing to all her Christmas gifts around her room. Rolling her eyes, she chose not to talk. Of course, they would jump to the worst.

Her mother let out a fake laugh. "You're not special to him, Emma." She quickly turned her eyes to her mother.
"Don't, Mother. Don't bring him into this." she said, shaking her head. She didn't want them to talk badly about Blake; he's done nothing wrong to her. He never has.

Her mother pressed her lips tightly. "What does he have you doing for him that's making you so dependent on him? Is he whoring you out to his little friends, maybe giving you a little money on the side?" Her mother looked up and down Emma's body while Emma looked at her in disbelief. Was her mother really implying she was a prostitute? That was low, even for her. Her father even looked surprised at her mother's accusation.

"Stop it," Emma whispered in a low tone, her body almost shaking at this point. The fact that her mother would even accuse her of such a thing was disgusting to her. She glared into her mother's eyes, but her mother continued to talk.

"He's a worthless punk. He'll never go anywhere. You were perfect before he came around." Emma closed her eyes tightly, the words hitting her like knives.
"I said stop, Mother," Emma whispered softly. She could not take much more of how her mother was acting.

"In fact, it would be better if he was just to die..." Her mother was unable to finish the sentence before Emma cut her off. She pushed her mother hard in the chest, making her stumble backwards.
"I said, FUCKING STOP IT!" Emma yelled loudly. Her parents looked at her, surprised. Her whole body was shaking, her hands balled into tight fists. Her mother had pushed her too far.

"...Who are you?" her mother whispered, tears falling down her own face. It was like she couldn't recognize her own daughter. Sure, Emma would get annoyed throughout the years with her parents' controlling nature, but never had she lashed out to the point of actually getting physical.

Her father looked between them, looking tired. He took his wife tightly in his arms, holding her to his chest. His wife was crying hysterically against his chest. He opened the door while Emma stayed planted in place, looking at the ground.

"This is not over. We'll be having a long talk about this tomorrow. Emma, whether you're aware of this or not, you've changed... and not for the better." They walked out of her room, slamming the door behind them.

She crumbled to the ground, crying her eyes out, hating her life for being this way, hating her parents for pushing her so hard all her life, hating the stalker. A part of her also felt guilty for treating her parents this way, for pushing her mother, for going behind both their backs to spend time with Blake. Was she a bad person for just wanting some freedom, for just wanting to live her life? Maybe the only person that she can hate for the situation that she's in was herself. Maybe she hated herself the most. That thought made her cry 10 times harder.

(Mia note- emotional chapter always wear me out to write. I wonder what will happen next now that everything is coming to light. And just before the new school year starts to smh

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