seven reasons why

//part of me//

To Alana, from Louis

my mother started to act weird a couple of days ago. i didn't suspect anything.

but she was being nice, too nice. and i'm was starting to ask myself whether she'd come to her senses and would actually try to help me.

when dad got home they came into my room with a bag packed and a train ticket. you have no fucking clue how much i fought to stay.

and the only evidence of it is my bruised knuckles as i punched my wall, trying to make them listen. the only evidence of my fight is the inevitable bruise that will grow on my dads face after i punched him when i tried to pull me away. and i didn't know what i was doing or why i was doing and then.

and then they looked at me, really looked at me, and i saw their eyes. the colours were so vivid and i wish i don't have the memory of them, i really did. because the amount of hatred in them made me want rip my skin to shreds. made me want to vomit until there was nothing in my stomach. and at that moment i realised how much i wasn't wanted. i realised how much they despised me and i stopped. i realised there was no point in wasting my energy.

they were shipping me to some town on the east coast and i let them.

i felt nothing as they waved me off. i felt nothing as they grinned at my retreating form. i felt nothing but empty as i the distance between us grew.

i also realised something else that day. i realised that part of me, part of who i was died with you on the night you took your life. and i was totally and utterly terrified that i'd never find it again.

Delivered - 20/10/15 - 00:16 am