The Things That Hurt The Most

Chapter 3; The Writting On The Walls

I started to write down thoughts, lyrics, books, and all those things when Aiden died. He would've made it but dad kicked her in the stomach when she fell from the stairs. It was that one kick that ended Aidens life. That one kick that made his heart stop beating. It was only that kick.

There was more writing on my wall when the police came in our house and arrested him. At that time I was sitting in the sofa watching tv, mom was in the hospital, and dad was in the kitchen cooking some lunch for us. It all seemed like a normal day but my mom was in the hospital. Dad had said that the food was in the table and I was just getting up when there was a knock on the door. They came in our house and took him away in the backseat of the car. I was standing there watching all of this happen. The cartoons still playing in the background.

A woman had walked out of her car and stood in front of me and explained what was going on as if I were a 4 year old. But I knew perfectly what had happened, I was 11. Mom got released from the hospital 2 weeks later. In the meantime I was in foster care, I was allowed to go visit my mom during visiting hours but after that I was forced to go back. I didn't like it at all. The kids older than me were bullies. I even saw Lily, my only friend at the time, commit suicide. There was no way to stop her, she was done with life.

Once mom got released from the hospital, I went home with her. She never asked about foster care or anything after that she stopped talking to me and spent her time crying in her room. I could hear her cries from the living room and soon after that she went into depression. She started taking antidepressants and went to a therapist twice a week. Things started to seem better but then she got a new job.

The self harming started when she got home late, most of the time drunk and let her anger all out in me. She never remembered doing that. But one day she remembered what she had done and promised to never drink again. She kept her promise for 5 days. Then it all started again, one time I was so badly hurt that I had to go to the emergency room. I never told anyone why I was really there, they didn't need to know.

Then there was more writing on the wall. And when my walls were full I went to the garage and grabbed the stairs and pulled them into my room, that's how I was able to write in the ceiling. The stairs stayed in my room for about a year before the ceiling was covered in writing. Then I went and bought some band posters to cover my walls. My story was in these walls, my life was written all over them. It would be the only thing I would miss. The only thing I loved. I would have to start all over again.

Soon after she got the job she became a workaholic, I was glad she had because that meant that she wouldn't be drinking much anymore and it also meant that I wouldn't be her punching bag. But I was also sad because my hope of becoming a family again was gone. Now I didn't know what I wanted. I guess that I didn't want anything, my life wasn't all happy with ice cream and unicorns. It had storms and depression. I didn't have any hope left after 1 year of her becoming a workaholic, it was all gone. And the writing on the wall was my best friend.

My eating disorder started when mom became a workaholic. When she would get home she would look at me with a face of disgust and call me fat. I didn't see her at all all day long and I didn't know how to cook and that was good if I wanted to loose weight . I ate small meals and soon was loosing weight. I realized what I was doing to myself and that's how that small piece of writing next to my door is about- eating disorder.

I learned to cook off YouTube and google. Whenever I got hungry I would bring my laptop in the kitchen and search for something to cook. I messed up most of the time and threw away the things but I got better with time and now I'm able to cook food for thanksgiving.

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"Oh my..." Ann said not taking her eyes off the walls, then she looked at the ceiling and gasped. "How were you able to write on the ceiling?" She asked.

"I-I used the stairs." I told her. Had I done something wrong? I knew that writing on the walls was something that kids got in trouble for.

"That's amazing." Ann gasped. "You let her write on the walls?"

"Y...Yes, it's her room so I allowed her to write on the walls, nowhere else." She stuttered, making up something as she said it.

They walked around my room reading small pieces of the writing. "I love this." Ann whispered as she ran her fingers against my wall. "It's... It's I can't explain this." She whispered. Eric still stood by the door looking at the wall and ceiling.

"I didn't think you'd like it this much. I was just about to mention painting over it to cover the writing." Mom went back by the door where Eric stood to wait for Ann.

Ann finally went with back with Eric and whispered something to him, he nodded and all 3 walked off with ought saying another word. I closed the door once again and continued packing.

This box wasn't heavy unlike the other boxes. It just held my small books and journals. The boxes that were already filled up were placed neatly by the door. The next thing to pack were my stuffed animals. I didn't have many only 2 cats, 3 bears, 5 pandas, and 2 dogs. I didn't care about neatly placing them in the box, I just threw them in there and closed it with ought giving them a second glance. I put the box along with the 7 other boxes and walked out of the room.

The hallway was now empty with nothing on the wall and the living room was filled with boxes of pictures, movies, books, and small decorations that used to be on the walls. The brown sofas and flat screen tv were still there, left untouched. The glass table in the middle of the living room didn't have its usual magazines anymore.

I went into the kitchen to hear the last words. "Yes, we'll buy it." It was Eric voice. They seemed happy about their new purchase. Ann seemed excited. They stood up and shook hands then walked off to the living room, completely ignoring me. It didn't bother me, I preferred not being noticed than having people surrounding me.

The kitchen was mostly empty except for the boxes near the back door which had cups, plates, pans, spoons, forks, knifes, etc. All the kitchen stuff along with spices and everything else. About 7 or 8 boxes in total. The house was nearly all packed up in less than 24 hours. It was mostly because we didn't have many things in here, mostly decorations because I was the only person here, I didn't use many things.

I believe that the only things left to pack would be bathroom things and the garage, I'm not sure how far my mom got into packing her room but that was none of my concern. I took care of my things, she took care of hers.

"They bought the house." Mom said walking in the kitchen with some money in her hand.