Shattered Stars

Chapter 2

Jayden's POV

I sit on our green couch, hugging my knees to my chest. It's almost comforting but I don't know why. This little action can only numb the pain to a certain extent. Some feelings don't go away no matter what you do.

I look out our window to the starry night, they always fascinated me. The thought that our world is just like a star, just as small from a distance; that there may be other life on planets. That was always something my mom and I did, star gaze. It was one of my favourite things to do with her.

A surge of sadness goes through my body. I miss her so much, now I'm alone. My so-called other mom Clara was supposed to take care of me until I found another family, but as per usual, she's nowhere near me.

What I wouldn't give to get my mom back. I can't live without her, she was my world. One of the only people who excepted me and treated me like a person, not as a shadow.

I bury my head in my knees trying to give myself some kind of comfort. I hate this feeling, I don't even know what it is but I wish it would stop. Usually, when I was sad my mom would try to cheer me up, but she's not here any more.

A rush of anger fills my slender body and I get up wanting to let it out. I dig my nails into my palm causing sharp pain, I don't care anymore. If it helps, I'll do it. It doesn't do much so I walk into another room, hopefully, something in there distracts me.

The closest room was the bathroom so I walk in and turn on the light. The tile floor is ice cold causing my feet to throb. The once white walls are covered in brownish stains that I don't even know how they got there. The light above gives everything a yellow glow, making it look even dirtier. The only nice thing in here is a pristine mirror that my mom loved, she just enjoyed a clean looking glass.

When I look at my reflection, I look worse than I feel. My skin is a chalky white making my freckles look disgusting. Puffy blue bags hang underneath my eyes making me look like an old lady and my chapped lips make me look like a corpse. My dirty blond hair is greasy and in need of washing, the only presentable thing about me is my purple tips that have never looked bad since I dyed them.

Dark blue eyes stare at me. Even though I was adopted I looked freakishly like my mom, especially in our eyes; they were practically identical. I feel as if my mom was looking at me instead of my reflection.

I furrow my eyebrows and look to the side. I can't look anymore, I'm just too much like her. How can I ever look at my reflection without feeling this? It would be nice to kind of have her presents but it's also a painful reminder that she's not coming back.

I grit my teeth in anger. I'll never hear her beautiful laugh. Never see her smile. Never be able to make her breakfast. Never, never; never!

I look to the object sitting on the edge of the sink. An empty beer bottle, this is what killed her. Drinking! If she had just stopped as I begged her to! If she only listened! If she only quit!

I let out a scream and slam my fist into the mirror causing it to shatter into a million pieces. I just stare at the shards for a couple of minutes. My distorted face looks back at me. Pointy shards hang onto their place but the rest are around my feet and sink.

I look at my hand. Blood drips from my knuckles and lands down the drain. I brush some bloody glass pieces off but there are still some stuck. Perfect, just what I need right now. I step carefully over the glass on the floor and walk to the kitchen to address my wound.