Mess Up // Ethan Dolan

Chapter 3

When I stepped out of the car, I realized that mami's car was gone.

She wasn't at work, because she doesn't work on Tuesdays. She only works on Wednesday nights and Sundays.

I walked into my house and noticed that past the kitchen my dad was sitting in the living room. He was sitting on the couch but the TV wasn't on.

I asked where mom was, but he had no clue. He seemed very tense. I think that maybe they were arguing, she got mad, and left.

I went upstairs to my painting room and got out my paints, canvas, and brushes.

I started painting with dark colors, showing fear, sadness, anger, and just pure darkness.

I felt broken inside, but no one would understand. Why would the person that I love hurt me this bad?

After I completed the painting I put everything up and headed to my room.

I walked into the hall and I heard my mom yelling and she was yelling at my dad. They were arguing really bad.

Instead of going to my room I walked down the stairs into the living room where my parents were.

I look up at my mom and she is holding a gun tightly in her hands, pointed towards my dad. She stares into my eyes as she turns the gun towards her head.

Staring into my soul as she pulls the trigger.

She drops to the ground after the loud bang as blood gushes from her head.

I black out for a bit, so I don't remember what happened after that until the next morning.

My dad comes into the room, and awakens me with breakfast made for me. I tear up and push him away. He was the reason my mother just took her own life. I will not accept pity food from him. I'm not hungry anyways. My stomach is empty, but it doesn't need to be filled. My heart is full, but it needs to be emptied. I'm tired of emotions. I'm tired of feeling. My life was going good and then bad, and then good, and then bad again. There is no hope.