Chasing Rainbows

Part Two: Chapter Seventy One

                 

"Where the hell is it?" I ask rudely, banging down the stairs with my last two bags.

"Where is what?" My godmother retorts innocently. 

"Don't give me that bullshit."

"Don't talk to her like that!"

"I'll say whatever the fuck I want!" I yell back.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?"

"Leaving," I answer shortly.

"You're not allowed until you're-"

"Eighteen. Check the date. It's my birthday."

"Well..."

"Well give me my money."

"What money?"

"Cut the shit," I grumble. "There was a manilla folder on my desk. It had nearly ten thousand dollars in it. I'm not leaving until I get it." The door slams, voices filling the hall.

"We don't need to give you anything. We housed your bratty ass for nearly two years. And-"

"Don't try and make it seem like you're the victim. It's mine, I earned it, and you were obligated to house me."

"Honey, just give it to her," My godfather sighs, looking at me with the glare of a kid who's misbehaving. I'm a loose cannon to these people.

"Not until she stops disrespecting us!"

"So you do have it."

"We took you in! You have no right to demand things from us!"

"You didn't take me in!" I yell, laughing bitterly. "I was ordered by a judge to live here. You had as little of a fucking choice about me living here as I did. So don't you fucking bitch to me." I exclaim. "You have no fucking right. You make me clean up my act. You make me change the way I speak, and what I say-"

"-Because you sound like a rude, abandoned girl who-" My godmother starts before I become enraged, shouting.

"How dare you! You fucking bitch! You don't get to fucking tell me that I'm some rude abandoned fucking girl! Did you even care when my father passed away? Did you know him? Oh, and what about my fucking mother? What do you know about her death? And Gray? What do you have to say about him? So if you think that I'm living life to the fullest, you're fucking wrong. Because if you couldn't tell by the scars that you made me fucking cover up, life hasn't been a fucking breeze. Don't you fucking dare look at me, a say the bullshit that you have about who I am and how I express myself. Because I have no one. I don't have a single person left in my life. Not my family, not my god parents, hell, not even my old friends! My life has been worse then hell, and about a month ago, when I ended up in the hospital, did you even care about what had happened? Or how many times?

"But I was just another shitty girl without a sharper knife, right? Because there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just a stupid girl who wants attention, right? Well, let me tell you that I would rather fucking die then have the attention that I've had, and I've tried to prove that at least half a dozen times now. So don't you dare look at me like I'm some depressed girl who looks like your fucking sister. I don't know how your daughter doesn't loathe you yet. Then again, it's probably because you treat her like the spoiled little bitch she is. My bags are packed, and I'm already gone. Now give me my fucking money, and let me leave. You'll never have to fucking see me again. That's a goddamn promise."

The hallway behind me has gone silent. A pin dropping would sound like a strike of thunder. Eyeing the Americans in front of me, I see my godmother's bicep flex as she reaches for an envelope of cash. Wrapping my hand around the paper, Mia's friends split like the red sea, and the door closes behind me for the last time.