Dear Diary (A dark Louis AU)

Chapter TWO

I came home to my parents yelling at each other. Wow, what a surprise I thought to myself rolling my eyes and slamming the door behind me to let them know that they weren’t alone in this house no more.

The yelling has stopped, and so have I, standing still in the arch that opened itself to the kitchen. That’s where they argued, the kitchen, their eyes now following my moves carefully, almost as they were observing me from the outside in. We stood like this for a good minute or so, looking each other dead in the eye, absorbing in the quietness. The guilt in their eyes indicated that they have gotten the massage I tried to send across. I turned on my heel and went upstairs, skipping a stair at a time to get to my room as quickly as possible.

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I haven’t heard them for a while now, and at that minute I could finally relax for a little bit. It seems like I haven’t been able to do it for so long, with my parents always screaming and shouting at each other. There hasn’t been a day where they haven’t argued, seems like it was all they could do nowadays, especially after my sister passed away.

It hit me like a train when they announced her dead at 3:46 am on a Saturday. I was with her that day, holding dearly onto her hand, never wishing to let go, because if I did it would mean that I was giving up on her. I know it wasn’t true, but that’s how it felt, like I was supposed to be there, with her at all times, because neither mom or dad were around to reassure her and whisper comforting things into her ear as she lay there in the cold, crisp white sheets, terrified to death. They were never around for her, their pathetic excuse being that they didn’t like hospitals. I figured that they just stopped caring, gave up on her, and gave up the faith that she will someday get better. Looking back at it now, I blame them. Seeing as they could have at least fought a little harder for their daughter’s life, which was hanging loose by a thin thread. 

After that day my whole world had collapsed. The announcement shattered my life into a million small pieces, which I was soon going to have to learn to pick up and glue back together in order to keep this family together, or what was left of it anyway, seen as my mom fell into a major depression, and my dad started drinking, a lot. This all resulted in him losing his job and his place in life. But it seemed like nobody cared about how I was doing, not even a single question about how I was feeling, or how I was handling it. When I was the only one that didn’t wanna give up on her, when I was the one who held her hand throughout night and day, whispering “you’ll be okay”s into the thick air that was sucked right out of the room by constant sobbing. I was the one who should have been depressed, not them. As she’s not around anymore, they suddenly seem to care. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair to her.

Now one year later and I still hold my grudges. I haven’t said a word out loud since the day she died. I saw no point in talking to my parents, as they were always fighting, blaming it on everything and everyone else but themselves. I have also isolated myself from my only friends, always needing a moment to myself and not being able to explain how broken I felt. I couldn’t possibly describe the sadness that was tarring me apart every single second of my life, so I just gave up trying and went, well, silent.

Throughout this year my parents have sent me to five different physiatrists, but not because they wanted me to let go of the sorrow and live my life to its full potential, oh no, they sent me there because they thought I was crazy for not talking. Yet they didn’t even try to find out what the reason for it was.