Life Line

Chapter 6

Yumi cries, and looks at him, his face. He is crying, she reaches her hand across the table, and holds onto his. "I..I'm so sorry," Yumi stutters, the tears just keep coming. He touches her face and wipes the tears away with his fingers, their eyes meet, and there's an undeniable moment between them. "Don't be sorry," he whispers.
"But I am, I am sorry for making you recount that, horror, and I'm sorry because you didn't deserve that," Yumi says.
"Its my life story, what's yours?"
Yumi takes hold of his hand from her face and brings it down beside her other.
He doesn't move his hands away, he holds onto them, her hands.
"Maybe you are familiar with my parents, their fame in the Business world, maybe your not. There is no denying their success, because they are successful. They have done well. They keep a strong public presence, they thrive on it. It was just unfortunate for them that their two children weren't bred for that kind of life. Martin was my older brother not by blood, but by spirit. I could never get away with saying I was his full sister because it was too far fetched. Both he and I were adopted, he from Malaysia, and I from Russia. He was adopted at 3 years old, he had problems with Attention span, and drug addiction, he was born that way. I was adopted a year later, I was 1 and a half years old, there were no details that I could find about myself, and my parents don't talk about it. I was brought up to believe my adoptive  parents were my saviours, in a way they were. The media loved that this highly successful couple had done something so caring. I've be told how lucky I was more times than I can count. When I was 8 I found conversations on my Mother's phone between her and my Father talking about how they adopted us for media attention, to get there name up there. Here I quote "can't believe it was that simple, all we did was to take in some low life off the streets then BAM we got famous babe!" I never will forget that. Two years ago when I was 13 my brother died, he was killed in a car accident, I lost a part of me that day. I didn't know how to deal with these extreme emotions I was feeling, they became like angry beasts that I couldn't tame. A week after he died I changed, I couldn't stand the pathetic whining of my friends saying that they were gonna die cuz their mum took their phone, so I beat the sh*t out of one of my friends. I skipped classes to smoke weed with the bad kids in the bushes down the back of the school. Then for the two years I continued to wreck my body, and my life, my parents were never home to help me out, and my teachers tried but I was too far gone. I was stood down multiple times for drug and weapon possession. They should have expelled me but the whole deal with my brother dying, they kept me there out of sympathy. Then I moved onto other drugs, I got hooked on heroin, and smoked marijuana daily. I got persuaded by the guys I smoked with that we should rob one of their step mums houses, I was too high to disagree so I went with them, I passed out in the car as they were driving so they ended up robbing the place without me. I would go to party after party, evryday night I would get a text telling me about some house party.  Eventually my parents began to see the life I was leading, they put extreme pressure on me, to change. It I didn't so my father would handcuff me to a bed and beat me until I couldn't cry anymore. I was to afraid to say anything to anyone. But even if I did say anything no one would believe me. Then I realised everything could go, every problem, every struggle could go.
I planned it, I went to the bathroom that day I prepped the needle then I injected myself with the amount I believed would kill me. But it wasn't enough."