No One But Myself

PART ONE-4

******************Sorry that I haven't been writing much, everyone. I lost my place and wasn't able to think of any more ideas as to how i was going to get my novel to where I wanted it, but due to revision and cuts of certain chapters (again, sorry), I may have better luck. Keep reading/ supporting.. means tons!***********

No one ever wants to hear that the mother who gave them life and hope for so long is gone.

No one ever wants the single ounce of hope that remains within, ripped to shreds.

But unfortunately for me, that's how life works.
Days pass, and without my mother, they seem longer, stretching on endlessly. I stay home from school that week, dodging Lena's thoughtful but unnecessary text messages and calls, and scribbling half halfheartedly in my journal.
     I also thought that maybe my father was going to change somehow, when he looked at me with tears in his eyes as the ambulance carried away my mother. Honestly, I was surprised he still had feelings, and even more astonished that he broadcast-ed them. But as soon as the ambulance was gone, and the news settled in, he was back to mindlessly rummaging through the cabinets for his beloved bottles of alcohol and acting as if nothing had happened.
      I remain locked in my room, the way I had been for the past week, and I had no intentions of coming remotely close to his presence. When I needed something, I found the little money I had stashed away, snuck out of my window, and went to the closest convenient store. Thankfully, I had my own bathroom, so avoiding him was fairly easy.
Finally, I return to school Thursday, entering the doors with my eyes transfixed on anything but everyone around me. Of course, I can't make it to my locker without Lena pinpointing me out of the crowd.
"Holy shit, you're actually finally at fucking school?"  She stands in the path of my locker so she's the only thing that I see, her expression contorted into part worry, and part surprise. I'm almost sure it's not the first version I'll see today, news spreads around here like wild fire.
"Yeah." I shrug, as if it's no big deal and push past her to shove my bags content into my locker carelessly.
"Are you okay?" She questions, lowering herself so she can meet my eyes. That's what Lena always does. She acts concerned every time she sees me, almost as if she knows what's really going on.
"I'm fine." I offer the same response I have been for years, and possibly will for the rest of my life, and ignore the same reply I always receive- an eye roll.
"Your mother just died and you're fine? Do you really expect me to buy that bullshit, Sam?"
       I don't even have to look at her face to know she's giving me her signature glare. And her words are true. She's always right. I'm definitely not fine. But I could never tell her that. Instead I just shrug my shoulders for the millionth time and offer a small smile.
"I love how concerned you are, but I'm fine. If I need you, I'll tell you." I say, knowing there's no truth in my words but also knowing that's what she wants to hear. "Okay?"
She glares at me again, as if she's seeing through my facade. She opens her mouth like she's going to protest, but closes it and smiles instead. Positive Lena at her finest.
"Okay, fine." She says finally. "Let's get to class."

***********************************

The days drags on relentlessly, way slower than I'd anticipated. Apparently, everyone was aware of my mother's "mysterious" death, and it was going around quite fast that I was the girl with the drug addicted mother who had overdosed. I wasn't surprised that the news had spread quickly, everything did here. I also wasn't surprised by the lack of sympathy I received from everyone else, although I was sort of thankful for the lack of attention. Attention is always one of the last things I desired, attention is an evil thing.

I avoided Lena most of the day as well, I couldn't bring myself to deal with the way she lingered near me, staring at me as if she knew everything I had been hiding from her. I knew she suspected. She had to. I made it more than a little obvious when I declined her coming over and always insisted we do something at her house, and when I was careful to hide what my father did to me and blame it on something ridiculous when she noticed. She would have to be dense not to notice, I just was thankful she didn't question what she most likely thought.

At lunch, I managed to hide away in the library and stare mindlessly into the computer screen until it was time for the next period to begin. Part of me debated whether or not I should stay in my spot until it was time to go home, but I ended up making my way up the stairs to my next class anyway. Book bag over my shoulder, I made way to my seat in the very back and retrieved my battered binder from its place, determined to grasp onto any aspect of normalcy that I could manage. Hand scribbled notes fell at my feet and I scrambled to pick them up before I brought unnecessary attention to myself. A hand met mine in that ridiculous cookie cutter movie way, and I met eyes with the last person I wanted to see.

"Thanks," I mutter, "but I got it"

I don't stare at him long enough to catch sight of his reaction to my words, but he doesn't move his hand and proceeds to help, which means it didn't affect him. Of course it didn't.

"You have nice handwriting" he says, trying to start another conversation with me. He was definitely persistent, I had to give him that. But, if I didn't want to talk to Lena, I definitely didn't want to engage in conversation with him either. I give a small shrug of my shoulders for a response and he heaves an audible sigh.

"Sam." He says my name with such dread, I feel bad for a second. "Please stop trying to shut Lena and me out. We just want to be there for you, we care about you.. why can't you see that? You're always hiding and running from the two people who care about you most. Why? What scares you so much, Sam? You know, Lena won't say anything to you but she knows the bruises you always have are from some one, those aren't from fucking accidents. We-"

"Daniel, just stop." I shake my head and meet his eyes for the first time that week, my heart a constant soundtrack in my ears. "stop." My fingers tremble as I focus on returning my notes to their assigned place in their binder, trying not to focus on his words and what he just said. He suspects too much, they both do, they want answers I can't give them. Answers I'll never be able to provide. Answers so awful, they don't have any idea what they are asking of me.

"I don't know what's going on, Sam." his voice falters and despite the chaos of the room around us, I can feel the hurt he's feeling, and see the plea that's screaming in his eyes. "but I want to know, just let me back in." his voice cracks, and his shiny eyes don't leave mine. He swallows, parts his lips to say something more, and then closes them as if he thought better of it. His eyes don't avert mine, they stay transfixed on the mess I'm sure I am, before the teacher signals for class to begin.