𝗔𝗹𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘆𝗺𝗶𝗮 - TMR AU, Minho.

09 - 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎

✦•┈๑⋯⋅𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓽⋯⋅๑┈•✦

I hate how everyone looks at me. their eyes always filled with pity. I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me, yet that's all I ever see in their eyes.

Everyone acts careful around me, it's like they think I would do it again if they did something wrong.
It doesn't work like that.
No mind works like that.

See that's why I was angry at everyone, when I survived.
I knew that they would feel sorry for me forever. I knew that even if I tried to have a normal life, everyone would always remind me how messed up I was.

Even my sister is always careful around me. I hate it.
I want her to fight me over food, but lately we barely even eat together.

I've been having these conversations with her.
I want to let her know that she can talk to me, but I also want her to make sure not to mess up like me.

I don't think she understands how much it means for me to protect her. She gets moody and thinks that I'm controlling her, but I'm not. All I want is to keep her safe.

I don't want to look at her eyes, and see empty, cold expressions, instead of filled with love of life.
She's sleeping much more lately. I probably shouldn't overthink, but she doesn't look peaceful when she sleeps.
She barely looks peaceful at all.

"Ugh, my head hurts." I hear her groaning and I look at her.
"Why?" Okay, I shouldn't have asked that. She immediately jumped up from her bed and gave me a confused gaze.

"What the fuck?! Were you here all night?"
"No, just got here" I shrugged.
"Still, why are you here? No, why am I here?" She looked around. "I'll kill Minho for carrying me instead of waking me up."

"Why are your knees scraped?" As soon as I asked, she frowned.
"I fell." She shrugged and sat on her bed.
"Were you running?"
"No. Just slipped." I don't give it much thought. Maybe I should, but it's just scraped knees. And it's Mila, she always finds a way to get injured.

"Alright. mom and dad are downstairs, by the way.
they decided to start having breakfast and dinner together again." She pulled a face.
"Why is that necessary? We eat anyway." She groans with clearly noticeable annoyance in her voice.

"They said something about not catching up with eachother anymore. I don't get it either, but just come down." I smile at her and walk out of her bedroom.

I have a feeling that she's not doing very well.
Her eyes were puffy, like she was crying.
Could be from sleeping too, right?

I sit down at a table, and smile at mom who puts a plate down for me.

"Where's Mila?" Dad asks, still looking at his phone.
"She's getting ready." I started poking my boiled eggs. "What's the point of this whole breakfast and dinner thing if you'll be on your phone anyway?" I don't want them to tell that I'm irritated, but they still notice.
"I'm sorry, you're right." He puts down his phone and smiles at me.

Mila is sitting beside me, not taking a single bite.

"Why aren't you eating?" I ask her with a confused look.
"Maybe she decided to drop some weight, hm?" Mom lets out a small laugh, but it isn't funny to me. I look at her with a frown. "What? I was just joking!" Smile forms on her face.

I never understood why my mom was cold and judgy towards Mila. She is her child, just like I am. Yet she treats me way better than her and it makes me feel guilty.

When we were younger, Mila was always trying to get close to mom. She would hug her, try to talk to her, would get her presents, but nothing worked. She was always ignorant.
There were some days, when mom was caring towards Mila.
I think she will remember those days forever.

Shortly after she turned eighteen, she stopped trying. She would never pay attention to her or her comments, but I know deep down it hurts her every time mom is being like that.

"I'm not trying to lose weight. I'm just not hungry in the mornings." She mumbled, not looking up.
"But why not? Your legs would look better."
"Mom, that's enough." I snapped at her.
"Okay, I'm sorry!" She stopped and began to eat her food.
We ate in silence.

Funny how they wanted to catch up with things, but they haven't asked a single question about Mila's play, or my band.

My mom always said that Mila was wasting her time by 'acting things.' She wanted her to be a therapist, or something like that.

Gladly, dad didn't care as long as she was happy. Though Mila was always distant towards him.

Dad had problems with alcohol, when Mila was around fifteen. He always took his anger out on her, and now that he's trying to be better, Mila thinks it's too late.
To be honest it is late.

Her actions sometimes concern me. Like how she's avoiding eating with me, how she's getting drunk on every chance she gets, or asking me for a cigarette.

I wish I could hug her, but not as I hug her normally.
I wish I could hug her so she would feel love and care she never felt before.
It hurts, knowing that there's definitely something going on with her. I wish I could know what it is that she's hiding, so I could help her.

But we can't help everyone, can we?
It's not that simple.
It's never that simple.

Soo what do we think about this? Should I write some of other chapters with Newt's point of view or just stick with Mila?

Anyway, Take care!!☆