Unforgivable Lacerations

Chapter Eight

Not falling back asleep until two am was bloody fantastic. Sarcasm should be evident there. The most painful couple of minutes was from 10:20 onward where I cried, like the weak person I was. I couldn't stop the abrupt burst of sobs or the quiet whimpers for another two hours as I made a little pity party for myself.

I woke up at nine am the following day, itching to see Mom and Phil, missing their familiar faces- that would now be scarred with sadness, mostly on Mom that Phil. 

I had an appointment with the local funeral director at three pm, both Mom and Phil would be attending with me. People might have thought that the whole Charlie and Phil situation would be slightly awkward, but it wasn't. Phil wanted to help me and Mom through this, supporting us both, which made me somewhat emotional.

Sadly my emotions were on high alert. If one thing went wrong, I would be in tears. It reminded me of my PMS just much, much worse.

I hated it.

I was now lying on the sofa, head on a cushion, in the clothes I wore the day before. Why? Because I hadn't left this spot since last night. The album had repeated itself thrice and by that time I knew some of the lyrics; it was funny how much I could relate to most of them.

I needed a shower, desperately, and needed to grab a bite of breakfast to please Mom. Having to have lived with me a majority of my life, she always saw right through me and my lies, it was scary at times. An open book I was, but just how open was I now with my emotionless state? One of the first questions Mom would ask me would be if I had eaten. I couldn't lie to her, so I threw my legs off the sofa first, making them fall on the floor, then rolled my upper half of my body. I lazily rolled off the sofa onto the floor, I was so tired and in an I'll do it later mood.

It was quarter-to-twelve after I had eaten and dressed when was waiting for Mom and Phil to arrive, being in the shattered state I was, I laid down on my bed- stupidly- and shut my eyes. I was acting like I was younger, when I would be woken up for school, then got dressed, and fall back asleep again, which ended up with me missing the bus.

I was jolted from my unconscious state by the door being slam shut, scaring me of who this intruder was until I heard her voice. "Bella?" Mom.

 I quickly jumped off my bed and ran downstairs, stumbling and tripping in my haste. 

"Mom, Phil!" I exclaimed as I sprinted into my mom's awaiting open arms. That's when I started crying- again. I couldn't help it, I missed the parental affection, especially Mom. She was one of the two people who could make me feel this safe and emotional. My best friend in a way, as well as my mom. I inhaled her perfume, the one which she always wore, and felt at home as if it took me years back to a little girl.

But that little girl was gone now.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." She hugged me tightly before letting go and giving me a small smile, one of those mom's smiles that she would pull if I was hurt. The last time I saw that was when I was about eleven, I tripped off a rock and broke my arm. I then hugged Phil briefly and led the way into the living room.

"I'll make some coffee while you two catch up," Phil told us, smiling briefly. I nodded at him, in desperate need of more caffeine, whereas Mom smiled.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Mom then asked me, catching me off guard as I didn't know, did I want to talk about it? No. 

I lightly shook my head, refusing to repeat the memories that were scorched into my brain. She understood with her knowledgeful eyes, fractionally tightening in concern, and started the topic of her new whim, Zumba fitness. 

We drank our coffee with the pair of them telling me what was happening in Phil's training- which made me feel so guilty making them come here- and they also told me what we needed to do. When the conversation was dying out I told them about my idea of the cottage in the woods.