LOVELORN

46|Unfolding & breaking

.　 *. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

*𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵.*

ＮＡＹＡ'Ｓ ＰＯＶ

𝘈 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳

I'D EXPECTED it to end after my mom had grabbed my phone and left. It didn't. Once I'd snapped out of my frozen state, I left the room and was promptly faced by my angry dad, shocked cousin, and concerned brother. Dazed, I didn't acknowledge them and hurried to my room.

But someone else had made it there first. My door was left ajar and when I peeked inside, I saw my mom rummaging through my stuff. She was carelessly tossing clothes and other items from my drawers, leaving the room she'd demanded me to clean in a far messier state than it'd been in a while.

All the effort I'd put into tidying it was suddenly gone. The tears returned with a vigorous force. It wasn't just about all the time I'd spent on making it neat, it was also about the fact that it was difficult for me to find the motivation to even clean it in the first place. She was ruining something I'd been proud I even managed to do in the first place, she was messing up the only semblance of a safe place I thought I had in this house.

"Ma," I stumbled on the word as I rushed into the room, reaching my hand out to stop her, but pulling it back at the last second. "What are you doing?"

"I know you're hiding something. Don't even try to deny it," she muttered, focused on finding whatever it was she was looking for. "I'm sick of you thinking you can get away with doing whatever."

Her movements suddenly halted as she pulled something out. She turned around, holding an item that made my face pale. My gut twisted until I felt like throwing up all the shame, all the agony, and all the self-hate. I squeezed my eyes shut, and shifted my head away from her direction, unable to bear looking at both her and the object she had in her hand.

"You're still fucking doing this shit?" She spat, brows furrowed and mouth agape. Not out of sympathy, but something more akin to disgust.

"No, no I swear I'm not!" I stumbled back as she put it away and got closer to me, face distorted with rage.

"Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not!"

She shook her head, tongue poking at her inner cheek, irises swirling with something almost like revulsion. "I'm on my last fucking nerve, Naya. Tell me the truth. Are you still self-harming?"

"I'm telling the truth," I sobbed, "the last time I did it was weeks ago, or maybe months ago at this point!"

My mom threw her hands up with indignation. "All that money on meds and therapy was for nothing then?"