Habits

Habits | three

| three

THEN

Being rich in a small town can sometimes be a pain in the butt. Why? Because people expect perfection. Some are just waiting for you to mess up. To my dearest mother, perfection was everything as well. Not a strand of hair would be out of place when it came to us going into public. We had to talk properly and in a respectfully manner. If we would fail to do so, punishment will await for us. Well, for me. Ever since I was small, my mother had somehow made it her goal to make my life a miserable hell. She would threaten me and beat me without my father knowing. Every night I would sit on my bed and try to figure out why she had so much hate towards me, but I always come up blank.

My older sister, Jacqueline, was my mothers favorite. She was never capable of doing bad, according to my mother. But Jacqueline was the definition of bad. She would lie, cheat, drink, and smoke. She would be gone most of the night and my parents would never catch her.

Then there was me. I was the nice and sweet one. I respected everyone and always helped those in need. I had never turned my back on someone who needed my help. My mother called me weak for it. She believed that I would bring the family name to the ground. My father on the other hand would always encourage me to help. He was the same as me. He loved to help the ones in need.

But that was that. My mother and sister hated the poor. Never associated with them. She would rather spit in their face instead of giving them a couple of dollars so they could get decent clothes and food. That was many of the reasons we would never get along. And trust me, there are plenty of reasons we will never get along.

NOW

"Isabella? Is that you?"

I froze. Every cell in my body was screaming for me to run. Run like the coward I am. To run far away as far as my legs could take me. I thought that I would never hear his voice again. I thought he was done with trying to find me.

"Please, darling. Talk to me."

I gasped as I felt him grab my hand. With my eyes clutched shut together I felt a lone tear slowly descending downhill. Everything around me suddenly felt cold.

"Get. Away. From. Me." I responded with clenched teeth.

"Not until you talk to me. Please open your eyes and look at me." Hands were suddenly on my face. On my cheeks.

"Hey dipwad get away from her!" Alexa. I sighed in relief but didn't open my eyes. I couldn't look at him. If I did I would run into his arms and I couldn't do that. I was not weak! "Hey Bella, you okay?" I could only nod. "Babe open your eyes and look at me." All I could do was shake my head vigorously.

"I can't." I told her. "Get me out of here. Please." I said on the verge of tears.

"No baby, listen to me. Talk to me!" He screamed.

Soon I started sobbing uncontrollably. I felt Alexa hold on to me tighter. "Get away from us!"

My feet started moving on their own and Alexa followed. My heart was beating so hard I could feel the vibration of the beating going towards my head. I could hear the music muffle together so I knew we were close to the exit.

As soon as we made it outside I opened my eyes and gasped. I held on tight to my chest as I felt the pain appear. My body felt as if it was drowning. As if I was underwater and couldn't get any air. My hands started shaking uncontrollably and I felt the need to claw at my chest. All my insides were hurting and it felt as if my body was on fire.

"Isabella! Look at me! Breathe. Slowly." Alexa grabbed me and sat me down. "It's okay, I'm right here. Shh." A few minutes later my body calmed and I could finally breathe again.

We heard the club door slam open and we both looked up. And I instantly regretted it. There he was. The one who was supposedly called my father. The one that was always supposed to believe in me no matter what. The one that was supposed to love me unconditionally. The one that threw me out the house. The one that I hate now. To me he wasn't a father. To me he was just a man that I once knew. A man who once would do anything for his little girl.

"Isabella."

I stood up and looked at him. I suddenly felt strong. Powerful. "You made me what I am today father. You and your lovely piece of shít wife and her uptight daughter! I'm so fùcking glad I don't have an ounce of her blood inside of me! I'm so glad that my mother isn't alive to see the shít you're doing to me. She'd be so disappointed and disgusted. What I regret the most is being your daughter!"

"You don't mean that!" He yelled at me in pain. "You're just hurt sweetheart. I made a mistake. Please come back home!"

My laugh echoed against the trees. I laughed as if he had just told me the most funniest joke. I wiped the tears from my face and faced him.

"Live with your mistake without me. Because I will never step foot in that house again. I'd rather go to jail and rot than to go back to that place!" Making eye contact with him was the hardest thing for me to do. There was so much pain in his eyes, my heart shattered. "Now you know what I felt the day you kicked me out. Now you know the kind of pain I felt when my own father believed some whöre over his own daughter. Now you know."

And with that being said I started walking away. I could hear Alexa slowly trailing behind me. She would probably ask about this tomorrow but by the time she would wake up, I would be long gone. That's what I do. I run like a coward to a different state until he finds me. And then it starts all over again. The running. That's what I've been doing for a while now.

He tends to think that time heals me, but it doesn't. Time just makes it worse for me. And each time that he shows up, he makes it worse. The pain. There's only so much more pain that I can take.

Soon this pain will kill me.

Soon there won't be an Isabella Rose Sanclair.

Soon there will be a tombstone with my name on it.

Because no one can heal the heart of a very broken girl.