•Annabelle•

Chapter 8

I stormed into my house, slamming the door as I collapsed on my bed.

"Ugh!" I grasped the water bottle from the side of my bed and threw it across the room, the walls ringing and echoing the thump.

I punched the practicality rotten pillow, squeezing it hard as I laid in my unmade bed, my body tensing.

I could feel my heartbeat rapidly speeding up, and the pounding was so loud that my eardrums ached.

"Just stop, please stop..." I moaned, grunting as my eyes locked on the black stained, painted walls.

I could easily just grab a brush, and start painting out my feelings, but I feel like I've got nothing left, like I've been drained of the flood inside of me.

And what more is left of you if you're empty inside?

Just as my nerves were starting to settle down a steady knock sounded from my door.

Great.

Not now.

"Jason," my father's voice wavered as he continued, "We need to talk."

My dry throat felt raw as I muttered, almost yelled back, "Not right now, go away!"

My breathing stuttered as I sighed heavily into my pillow, not daring to look back at the sound of the squeaking door and two pairs of footsteps entering the room.

Light fingers stroked my hair, "Jason..." it was my mom this time, what could they both possibly have to say to me now? "We really need to have a small discussion, would you please sit up."

I felt like all the blood had drained from my face as I pushed myself up, light headiness plummeting through my brain.

I blinked my eyes a couple times, my parent's faces blurry and unrecognizable.

Not that I could recognize them any more anyways.

As I slowly regained my vision I watched as they both sat at the edge of my bed, my mom sitting cross legged as she tugged and twisted the ends of her hair.

Annie used to do that.

"What do you want?" My voice was as emotionless as my picture on my driver's license.

My parents seemed to exchange a small look, my mother clasping my hand in hers as she glanced into my eyes.

I originally had hoped the eye contact was only temporary, but after a couple seconds I couldn't hold it though so I just stared at our hands held together.

"Look, we know you're going through a tough time," a tough time? Really Dad? Oh I think it's a lot more of a heck of a hard time. "But this game of staying in your bed and doing nothing has got to stop."

My heart dropped, a game? Did he really just... "Are you seriously calling this a game?! Are you really calling me not being able to see the world and avoiding everything because it hurts so bad a game?!" I could feel my empty hand clenching into a fist.

"Jason you can't stay here forever! You need to get out of this old room put on some clean clothes, do some laundry, and just do something with your life!"

"But how can I do something when I don't even have control of my life?! How can I if I can't even feel the will to get up in the morning?!"

"You could at least try!" My dad was standing now.

"You don't think I have? I have tried several times already! I have tried to go to school like twice now, and I just came back from the carnival! But the same thing always happens!" My eyes were on my dad now, no longer afraid to hold eye contact, "I'll be there, maybe for only a couple of minutes and I'll think, hey this is actually going okay. But then something happens, like the trigger being pulled on a gun, and I explode like a bullet!"

"Bullets don't explode Jason," my mother's voice was frail, but I could tell that she was trying.

"Whatever! It doesn't matter! The point is that once I go off it's like I'm ready to hurt anyone who comes in my path!"

My lungs were out of breath, and the hair on my neck was on edge.

My parents were silent, I was silent, and it was like the fire had just been extinguished.

"You know what? I'm done," my Dad's heavy steps thumped towards the door, "I'm leaving it up to you Sarah!"

The door closed with a heavy bang, and I could hear my mom suppressing a deep sigh.

"Don't take it personally, he just... doesn't know how to handle this."

I didn't have the spark in me anymore to argue, so I just stayed silent, feeling like I was hanging off an invisible cliff.

"Look, as we said earlier we do need to talk. So, we had had a small chat with your guidance counsellor, and they thought it would be best if, if you went back to school."

I could barely hear her, the ringing in my ears was mixing with my loud thoughts. I could catch snippets of what she was saying, but I couldn't find it in me to respond.

"Look I know it's going to be hard, I know, but even if you just went for half the day at least would be fine, just one step at a time. And, plus, you're supposed to graduate in about a month, if you fail you'll have to restart this year all over again, so let's just get it over and be done with it."

I just nodded, knowing that there would be no point in arguing with her. My dad, now he's one thing, but my mom, she did nothing at all. What did she do to deserve this boy who can't even function?

Before she left the void of my darkness, she bent by my head and rested a light kiss on my forehead, her fingers slowly running through my hair, "Everything is going to be okay, you'll see."

Yeah. We'll see.