I think I might throw up. I'm really sick of having to run away from everything. Just the idea of facing my parents after I left them makes me mentally and physically ill. They are going to kill me. I wouldn't tell Odette that, though. The last time I told someone about the abuse, I got put in mental therapy and they pinned me down to see the bruises and cuts I had made.
I hated every second of it.
My parents told them a sap story about how one of my aunts had been severely abusive towards me and it wasn't them because how could they ever hurt their only child? For some reason, the doctors believed that bullshit.
They still pushed me to go to therapy, though--but I guess I don't anymore because I'm all the way in France. I'll miss Tamara.
I walk out to the porch, narrowly avoiding the triplets, and sit on a wooden bench with my head in my hands.
What did I get myself into?
"Amie?" Odette's voice makes my headache worse. Apparently I cant have five seconds of silence without being interrupted by what has to be the world's most delusional woman if she sent someone to the middle of buttfuck nowhere in Massachusetts to fetch me of all people.
I hear the front door open and close. "I'm sorry I upset you but we have to get you ready for your school guide tomorrow."
You don't sound very sorry, I think bitterly.
"What do I need?"
Maybe this process will go more smoothly if I stop fighting it. I'll figure out a way to get out somehow.
YOU ARE READING
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
FantasyI'm pretty sure everything about what I'm doing is illegal-but that's part of the teenage life. You break rules and live and learn. I guess in my case it's a little more than that. TW: mentions of suicide, self harm, and other topics that are not so...
