Dangerous Love

Moving Day

3 am

Sleep is a foreign word to me. The moon has become my best friend over the last year since my younger brother Gavin died. My heart still aches when I think of it, as if it was yesterday. The pain in my heart never goes away and the guilt just ways me down.

My parents blame me for my brother's death. If I wasn't late picking him up from school then just maybe I would've beat that red like and we would've missed the drunk who ran a red light and no one would be hurt or... gone. The drunk women crashed into the passenger side of the car hitting my brother directly. By the time the ambulance came he was already dead and I was left with a concussion and 5 broken ribs. I didn't care though because the only person who I truly loved, besides my older brother Antonio, was gone because I was a stupid love-struck girl who let her crush distract me from getting Gavin. I will never forgive myself for what I've done, I know I'm not the only ones who don't. My parents despise me even more now because of this and I don't blame them. They tend to treat me differently than the others, but I deserve it right? I took away their pride and joy and drifted everyone away. Tony left town after the accident leaving all us clueless to where he is. Why wouldn't he talk to me. We were inseparable. He hated my parents for the shit they did to me so I was just shocked when he never came home.

I was alone.

Surrounded by guilt and shame.

But things will get better, right?

******

Can the sun have an off switch? Even through my dark window shades the sun manages to burn my eyelids as morning is approaching.
Rolling over to the side where my night stand is I check the clock that reads 7:05 A.M.
*groan*

It must've been 4 when I finally passed out of utter exhaustion from the nights events. My mind was raced back to last night trying to peace everything together. He said I led him on how is that possible I was just being friendly? I mean I did enough those night out to the movies but that's what friends do right?

Shaking my head of the thoughts as I sit up then swing both legs out from under my covers to get ready for the busy day. When I was first told that my dad got a new job which would require us to move I hated the idea. I hated the fact that we were leaving my hometown where so many memories were kept, where we grew up, the only place I've ever known. But maybe it was a good idea. Maybe things will get better for my family and maybe they will love me again but something in the back of my mind told me otherwise. Why would things get better just by moving?

Leave it to me to be the last one packed up so it means my day consists of boxing up my entire room. My room now isn't that big average size, big enough for a full-size bed with a dresser and desk in the corner. I was never a fan of having a big room because the bigger it is the more stuff I will want to put in it. I always choose smaller rooms and left Antonio and Gavin get the larger ones. So, I won't have much to pack meaning I can spend more time going through things without feeling the need to rush. We are moving out of our big city Virginia to a small town in South Carolina. I was scared but it was something that needed to be done.

After I got out of bed I showered and towel dried my long brown hair leaving it to do it's natural thing then headed to my dresser to get some clothes. I picked out some black leggings and paired it with a loose tank top seeing how all I am going to be doing is packing.

I head downstairs to get some breakfast to fuel my body for all the lifting I will be doing soon. Entering the kitchen, I spot my Dad engulfed in his newspaper drinking his coffee like always while my mom packs up things around the kitchen which we left for last due to all the food.

"Well about time you get up, Delilah why don't you help your Ma pack the kitchen." My dad said to me without looking up from his paper.

He's serious, right? For one it's only 7:30 it's not like I slept all day and secondly, he is just sitting there. He makes me so mad the way he treats my mom. Granted she and I don't have the greatest relationship she is my mother and I love her. Versus my dad and I, he is the one who does all the punishing. He's laid his hands on me more while my mom has only slapped me once. She just stands by and doesn't do anything to help, it's like she's afraid to which is why our relationships broken. I only pray it gets better because we were so close but then it's like a switched flicked and she sided with my dad and forgot I was her daughter who needed her.