Not Like Last Time

Chapter 7

It felt nice to lay in my room, my bed. It felt nice to be able to be on my own schedule instead of having a strict one. In a way, the routine at Rivers had become a comfort, so I didn't exactly know what to do.

When I went downstairs, Mom was sitting at the table, glasses on as she typed on her laptop. She glanced at me, her eyes cold and blank as her jaw clenched.

I didn't give her a reaction, I just grabbed a PopTart and went into the living room. I flipped through the channels, trying to find something to watch. After a bit, I gave up and just settled on the news. I didn't really pay attention to it.

Would I get the job after Jake saw the note, if he even read it? Would he even tell his mom about me after–if–he read the note? I spent the entire day fidgeting with my hands.

"Would you stop?" Mom snapped, glaring at my drumming fingers. I stopped.

"Sorry." I looked down, forcing my hands in my lap.

"Have you even gotten a job yet?"

I sighed. I've only been here one day so far. "No, Mom. But I applied yesterday. I'm waiting for them to contact me." I rolled my eyes. "One would think you would be happy to see your daughter alive and not in a funeral."

I could feel her gaze snap onto me. I met her eyes, hers were a swirl of emotions. Anger, sadness, and maybe, wow, guilt? That's new. I was careful not to show anything in my stare.

Game on, bitch.

"I'm glad you're not dead, but you don't get to come back here and act like everything's normal after you just came back from the mental hospital. You promised you'd be better last time. Look where you ended up. I don't want to hear your promises because if I actually believe them and you break them, you'd be shattering my heart all over again." She looked down at her lap. I knew tears were forming and I felt slightly guilty, but I knew it was going to be different this time.

"I'm not acting like everything's normal. Before I called you, I was prepared to repair our relationship. I know this time is going to be different but you clearly don't believe me. And I didn't mean to break your heart. I didn't mean to almost die. I didn't mean for dad to separate because of me. I didn't mean to do anything." I murmured, dropping my eyes to the table. I clenched the hem of my shirt to keep my hands from drumming.

"Yeah, but did you ever stop to think if I was ready?" She whispered brokenly, her voice cracking.

"No." I said simply, and I felt bad of course, but she didn't need to be so cold. "I know you're going through a bad time too, but that's not an excuse to treat me the way you are. I am your daughter. I am your child. I might be messed up but I'm trying here. Hard." I took a shuddering breath. "I'll be out of here in no time."

I stood from the table, not sparing a second glance back. I went back up to my room and gravitated to my notebook. I stopped. Eventually I'd have to stop using it so much. If I really need to use it, I will.

Instead, I sat on my bed and scrolled through TikTok which was so much healthier than writing down my feelings.

I saw all these skinny, beautiful girls who are feeling ugly when I can't even compare to them. Everyone thinks everyone else is beautiful, and everyone thinks that they, themselves, are ugly. Even confident people have insecurities.

Some people just hid it better than others.

I stopped scrolling. Was this how it started? Comparison? Was it a trigger? Is my room a trigger? Oh my god what if it is? All the thoughts in my head went to triggers. I didn't want to cut myself again.