"I can't believe that just happened. Why must I never do anything right?" I mumble to myself, heading back up the stairs.
As I pass my parents' room, I hear my mother sobbing.
"Why did you have to go and leave us?" she sobs, "Who made you do this?"
I quickly walk by and just stand out front of my door. I'm still standing at the door and holding the handle when my mom comes out of her room looking more composed then ever. She turns to look at me but then quickly looks away as if she isn't happy with what she sees. I don't blame. I'm nothing compared to Holly. Holly was the best to everyone. She always knew the answers; she was smart. She always made 100's on her exams. I couldn't possibly compare to her. Just thinking about her made me angry. I let go of the door handle and ball my hand into a fist. I bring it back and swing it hard onto the wall. I hear a crunch and fall to the floor.
"Ow!" I scream out in pain.
No footsteps sound in the house.
"Honey, are you okay?" my mother calls from downstairs.
"No. I'm pretty sure I broke a few fingers."
"Your sister never did anything that stupid," she thinks she mumbles to herself but her voice bounces off the wall and into my ear.
After that comment, I just sit still and let the tears fall from my eyes. Crying in a situation like this is normal so I use it as an excuse. I use it as an excuse to cry about everything but mostly my sister. No one truly knows how I feel about all of this. Everyone acts as if they don't even care. What am I supposed to do in a world that acts as if they don't even want me here? And, sadly, the first thought that pops into my head is suicide. But suicide is just a coward's way out. I am no coward. I take a deep breath and step away from my mother. I open my door and slam it in her face; I grab a bag out of my closet and fil it with clothes. I write my parents a note that says:
I need to clear my mind. I need my space. I need my family back. I'll be back whenever I feel the time is right. So don't worry. Or at least try not to worry too much. Act as if I wasn't here, which shouldn't be hard considering the fact that you do anyway.
I love you. Sorry.
I place the note on my pillow and head out to the balcony. As I open the doors, the wind rushes into the room, blowing my hair away from my face. I look down.
So the journey begins.
