adopted by who!? // rhett & link // completed

Chapter Fifty

Leah's P.O.V.

I didn't know how or where I was going to leave the world, but it needed to be done I couldn't stand continuing my life knowing that I was just a disappointment to the person I loved the most.

I sat there, wondering where he was, what he was doing, why should I care?

I truly did though... I wanted to have my life back, the life I had before I fell over the edge, the life before I had a cuncussion, the life I had when I met dad.

I didn't want to leave the world, but dad didn't care about me...

The words repeated themselves in my head,

He doesn't care

He doesn't care if you cut, he doesn't care if you commit suicide, he doesn't care about you at all.

There was still a ray of hope that he does care about me still lurking inside.

That ray of hope was keeping me alive longer.

There was nothing I wanted more than for that thought of him actually caring about me to be true...

After sitting in my bed for the longest time, I pulled my hoodie sleeves down to hide my bloody arms, grabbed the knife I used to cut, grabbed my crutches, and headed for the door of my bedroom.

I hid the knife in my pocket so mom couldn't see it.

"Mom, I'm going to the bakery."

I said, opening the big door that dad opened for me on the first day home.

It made me shudder to think that when he was doing that, he didn't care anyway.

I closed the door behind me and started hobbling down the sidewalk.

I wasn't going to the bakery, I was going to the alley behind the bakery to get this over with, I didn't want anybody to find me after I died, at least not right away.

I hobbled down the street, shaking, knowing that I wasn't going to live much longer, knowing that the Neal's were going to continue on with their lives, and I wasn't going to be there to experience it with them.

I wasn't going to go to my graduation ceremony, I wasn't going to have dad walk me down the isle, I wasn't going to have children, I wasn't going to have anything.

I didn't care, I still hobbled on down the street.

I made a few turns here and there, and I finally reached the bakery.

The bakery where we all went every Sunday to get donuts, sit down, and talk, like a normal family.

I hobbled down the alley and sat behind the dumpster, pulled the knife out of my pocket, set it down next to me, and cried.

Cried so much that anyone could hear me over the noise of the busy streets of L.A.

It was the end... After 13 years, it was the end.

I picked up the knife to only be stopped by a scream...

The familiar voice of someone that once told me I was a disappointment, filled the alley.

It was dad.