The Duet ~Sweet Moments~

2 - Walls and Barriers Part 2

A/N - HELLO MY LOVELIES!!!!!!!!!!! So i finally had idea's for this chapter! Even though it is hell a short im going to add a bit of a twist to the story as you will see once you read on! Thank you to everyone and anyone who is reading this book it means so much to me! And the votes! Ha! God I love you guys :') You all are so great and thank you to everyone for sticking with me while i write this. :) For this chapter I'm Dedicating it to the wonderful ImDivergent13! Who is going to wonderfully edit my story 'The Secret War' and is beyond belied the best person i know! Thank you Cynthia!!!!!!! <3 Dont forget to;

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~ Sweet moments ~

It took around 45 minutes for Lui and me to arrive back at my place; thankfully he didn’t ask to come in as he had to get back to his place. So here I am now sitting in my hospital looking room staring at brown cardboard boxes that are stacked up against my back wall that contain all my memories from AUS. As soon as I walked through those doors 30 minutes ago the smile disappeared from my face and the depression sunk back in and consumed me. One thing that I probably should have mentioned earlier, I suffer from deep depression. Why? Well you’re going to have to figure that out yourself because there is no way in hell I am explaining that again. I keep on talking about those walls I need to have up, yeah, they’re so I don’t start to care again, but it’s also so I’m not stupid enough to let someone in and get hurt, again. Starting to fall into place a little yet? So I don’t get hurt by someone…again? Dot dot dot? Hello people I’m talking about the unfortunate Conner here. Even though I shouldn’t because now tonight I’ll go and do something I regret.

“REBECCA! GET YOUR SORRY ASS, DOWN HERE! NOW!” my mother’s words echoed through the whole house and I’m pretty sure the whole of Washington could have heard her.

Sighing I brought myself to move my sore body off my bed and I trudged down the stairs. Making my way to lounge room I tried to brace myself for what was coming next. i hadn’t even taken a step to enter the room when I was struck with a forceful blow to my right cheek. I didn’t fall to the ground; I just stood there and let it happen. My jaw was aching and I had sharp jabbing pains going all the way up to the top of my head.

“WHY CAN’T YOU BE PERFECT! THAT’S ALL I EVER WANTED FROM YOU! TO BE A PERFECT DAUGHTER EVERY MOTHER WANT’S! BUT NO, WHAT DO I GET? A DELINQUENT OF A CHILD! DO YOU KNOW HOW HUMILIATING IT WAS FOR YOUR FATHER AND I TO BE REFERED TO AS’THE JUVY’S PARENTS’?!” my eyes opened slowly and I was greeted to my ‘mother’ standing in front of me, bare footed with her night gown on, her cheeks were stained with tears. Her short brown hair was pinned back and her green eyes glistening in the light. She slapped my left cheek with enough force that I fell backwards, which wasn’t a normal thing for me to do, normally I’d just stand there and stare at her while she hit me, feeling no emotion nor pain, but now, I could feel the stinging pain in my left cheek, the aching pain in my right jaw and my vision was becoming blurry as tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. I had come easily to Washington because I thought this would stop once we were away from home, away from the people that knew us. I guess I was wrong, and only now can I see how stupid I was to actually think that.

I hit the ground with enough force to snap my neck back; my right hand instinctively went to the back of my neck as I rubbed it and winced at the sharp pain in the hollow of my neck.

“GET UP! GET UP NOW!” God why are some parents like this? Why can’t all be caring, loving and...Well…nice? Getting up hesitantly I cautiously eye my ‘mother’. Her face had gone red and tears were running down her face. All this was my fault. The way my family is, the way we all act towards each other, my…fault. Mum dragged her hands down her face and let out a deep sigh whilst I stood there on high alert waiting for the next outburst to happen. But instead mum just turns her back to me and goes into the kitchen. Your probably wondering right now where the hell my dad is. Well, unlike mum and I, my dad and I are close. He doesn’t approve of the shop lifting and graffiti I do, but of course, what parent would? He’s had his fare amount of yells at me but not once has he hit me like mum has, he doesn’t know mum even hit’s me. Right now he’s still at work, its 6pm here in Washington and I found out that it’s a 12 hour difference to Australia. So it’d be 6am there in Australia. No wonder why I’m absolutely beet, besides the obvious reasons. Since my mother had left to the kitchen I slowly made my way up the steps and back up to my room, wincing with every step I took. This wasn’t the worst she’d done but the way I fell had played most of the part in the pain. Locking my door as I entered my room I made my way to my ensuite, flicking on the light the white room glistened under the sudden exposure of light. My bathroom was white and black. It had that glossy affect to it and it just made everything shine. From my Black Hand basin and floor tiles to my white walls and shower I had to take in a deep breath to actually realise that this move had actually happened. This wasn’t just some weird dream or a prank, this was real and I was never going back to my friends, to my home. I was stuck here in this bottomless pit. Forever going to struggle to get out, and when I do, it’ll be too late. Suddenly feeling the urge to be sick I place my hands on either side of the hand basin and stare at my reflection in front of me. Taking in deep breathes I try and focus on something to get me distracted. Surprisingly my mind wonders off to my first day of school, how I had sworn and talked back to Mr Cameron, how he had been so incredibly ‘fine’ with it, how young he looked!! How I had met shaggy hair in music and how he had been so openly kind. How he’d walked to the park and sat with me, walked me home and actually sounded jealous about Daniel. Daniel…how beautiful his voice was, how his smile could light up a whole room, how I felt like I could tell him anything, how his tone when he sang just…god I’m sounding so sappy! 

Alright, Bec, snap out of it, you can’t let yourself be happy again…can you? Seeing the bruise starting to form on my cheek and jaw gives me my answer almost instantly. No. I can’t be happy again. It’ll destroy me, but more than anything I don’t deserve to feel happiness. I don’t deserve to feel anything.  But what I’m stuck with feeling…is loneliness.