Safe from Scars (COMPLETE)

13. Love - Hate

I watched as the scorching hot water droplets danced down my forearms, allowing the steam to cloud the room. I keep my arms wrapped around my body, hugging tightly as I watched the droplets roll.
This has always been comforting to me.
Allowing my arms to cross into a hug around my own body has always felt like my way of keeping myself together.

Showers have been my great escape this week. I can't bring myself to cry in front of Aunt Trish or the boys any longer. She has done so much for me already, so I don't want her to know that I am not okay.

So I shower, and I cry.

"Kalina. Don't you ever show your fucking face in this house again."

My mothers cold words and expressionless face, echo in my head again.
That night plays on repeat in my mind.

I hate her for being so cruel all those years. I hate her for being so numb.
I hate her for being cold and wicked. I hate her for allowing herself to be a man's literal punching bag, and I hate her for making me hers.
I hate her for losing hope. I hate her for giving up on everything. On herself. On my dad. On me. On life.
I hate her because she doesn't know what she's done.
Or maybe she does, but she can't remember what it feels like to care.

But I love her too.
Because I remember the real her. I remember when she used to smile. I remember how much she once loved and adored my father. I remember when she was so gentle and kind. I remember when she spoke to me with so much love in her heart. Every word that slipped from her lips were as sweet as honey, and no one could tell me otherwise.
I love her because I remember who she was before she was broken.
And I love her, because I watched her fall apart. Day by day. Piece by piece. Until she was left with nothing. But me.

Sometimes I stand in the shower so long, I feel my legs grow weak like jelly. Like they want to give in. Sometimes I wait for the water to go cold. Sometimes I wait for my tears to dry up.
I rest my head against the hard, cold tile and allow the hot water to fall down my back, a slight sting from the heat as it kisses my skin.

Three quick taps on the door pull me from my dark hole.

"You alive in there, Kali?!", Trish yells from the other side of the door, half joking, half worried.

I'm alive. Just not feeling like I'm living.

I dry off and dress into the only pair of jeans I own right now. My overnight bag consists of my whole life at the moment. A pair of jeans, few t shirts, my grey sweat pants, one black dress and a hoodie.
I probably didn't need to donate every article of clothing I owned, but I really didn't want to go through those boxes.
Most of it was clothes and lingerie I picked out with Treys help. Of course he said yes to all the skimpier ones. Cut off denim booty shorts, a variety of thongs and crotchless panties, some of his shirts and hoodies. I'm glad I got rid of all that shit.

I throw my ripped jeans on and pair it with white hoodie, not bothering to throw a shirt on. My wardrobe is limited, and I don't feel like doing more laundry.
Marina stole this hoodie from PINK when we were 16. I remember her slipping it on in front of the store mirror, checking her self out, then speed walking right out the door. No one even noticed, and there's a tiny hole on the side seam where she pried the sensor off. She'd always been the adrenaline junkie daredevil. I admired that about her. Such a badass. God, I miss her. I hope bootcamp is treating her well.

I run a brush quickly through my hair, ripping through the tangles from my week of messy buns.
I'll leave it down to dry before I throw it in a bun today. Trey always hated my messy buns. He always joked and said it looked like I had just rolled out of bed after a night of hot sex. That was my reason, most nights.
I don't want to think about him anymore.

Trish was waiting for me at the front door. The boys were with their grandparents for the rest of the weekend. Uncle Ely was really close with his parents before he died. They live only fifteen minutes away. Trish says they ask to have the twins almost every weekend, to give her a break. She's supposed to have "mommy-time" and do things she loves, but I'm sure she just spends the entire weekend missing their happy faces.

"Ready to go, hun? This place is UHHH-MAYZING. You're really going to love it! Your Uncle Ely swore he could eat dinner here every night." Her smile is bright and shes beyond excited to introduce me to this Vietnamese place.

I nod and fake excitement. For once, I'd rather spend my Saturday night at home, but I close the door behind me and climb into the car anyway.