Don't believe everything you hear | WLW

Chapter Twenty Three | It all ends.

                  Alethea Montgomery POV

I practically run out of the bathroom after hearing those vile words coming from Evelyn. I knew it. It was all just a trap that I fell for. I didn't mean anything to her. I can't lie to myself and say that she didn't mean something to me, because she did.

I'm embarrassed and ashamed. Everything Evelyn said was true. I am incapable of love in all aspects.

Tears are pouring out from my eyes as I run to my locker. There aren't many people in the hallways because classes are in session. I get a few weird looks from people but I don't care right now. I struggle with the code to my locker. After many failed attempts, I finally get it open. I take out my bag and necessities. I don't think I'll be at school for a while.

My hands are shaking, it's hard to pick up certain things. But once i'm done, I slam my locker shut and walk outside. I open my car door and shut it. I take a deep breath and breakdown in my car. Everything is coming at me at once. All the things in my past, reliving the truth behind my trauma because of Evelyn. Everything I've done to convince my self I was okay, everything I've done to better myself. All a big lie.

I remember my father coming home late from the bar when I was 14. He yelled and berated me for being the way I was.

"You are unlovable Alethea, worthless. It's your fault things are the way they are. Me and your mother should have gotten an abortion." My father spat at me.

That sentence always stuck with me. And now Evelyn, a spitting image of my father, telling me the same thing, just in different fonts. God I can't take this pain anymore. I just can't.

I'm tired of living everyday with this empty feeling. Everything is hidden, I don't know how or when to unpack all the trauma that's been building up all my life.

I don't have anyone to run to. My Aunt is always away on some business trip. She hardly answers her phone, and when she does, it's a quick reply. I know she's busy and it's not her fault. I just wish she could see from my perspective. I have no family, the family I did have, are all gone.

I start up my car, and I idle. I decide to text Amara, the light of my life right now. I feel a burning sensation inside of me, an idea playing in my head. I text Amara how much I love and appreciate her. I make sure to include memories and things she's told me that stuck. I also send a few texts to other friends and family members that do not live in New York. I also refer to myself and feelings in past tense, so maybe they'll get the idea. Talking as if I am not here anymore. That's what they're going to know for the rest of their lives. I scroll through photos and messages I have from my mother, grandmother, and father before he was an alcoholic.

I drive out of the parking lot. It's a Thursday, so many people are still working. The roads are not as busy because of it. I drive to the place where my mother's car crashed. It was downtown, the back of a cement restaurant wall. It has been fixed, but there is a sign on the side of the road.

It reads, "Please drive safely, in memory of Adina Montgomery."

I run my hands over the ran down sign. Silent tears streaming down my face, burning like fire. I can taste the salt in between my lips.

I feel a switch inside of me. I felt so much emotion, and now it's gone. Like it's turned off. I've made up my mind. My phone is blowing up with worried friends and family. Asking, "Why did I send something like that?", "Am I okay?", blah blah blah.

I get into my car, and get a good look at the sign. It will be one of the last things I remember. I make sure to leave my seatbelt off. I start driving down roads until I drive up a hill, with no cars. I smile to my self. I feel my heart beating through my chest erratically, not necessarily in a bad or good way. My body knows it will all end. Embracing impact.

I push my gas pedal as far as it can go. My body shifts into the seat due to the force and speed of the car. I know it's not cliche like a movie where I write everyone notes and do all sorts of things. But I don't. I don't care about my image that much. I only care about the pain ending. For good. Not by someone who I thought cared for me.

All those words, gestures, actions, they meant nothing. Those kisses, the tears. All a waste of time. I put my car in sports mode, this makes the car jerk and go faster than ever before. There's switches behind the wheel to adjust the gears.

I reach the bottom of the hill and turn my car towards the next flat building I see. I don't see the people walking, I don't see the life around me. All I see is my fate. I don't think about the lives I will end in doing this.

A brick wall comes in focus. I make sure to keep my eyes open. All my memories flooding my mind, flashing before my eyes. One final tear and a deep breath of freedom before—