Fighting for Life | ✓

9 | Do they love me?

I busied myself in my a book as Harvey got ready for school ad Finch was busy working on his laptop by himself. I waited for Harvey to leave before voicing my thoughts to Finch, and hoping he would help a little.

I just can't not be able to walk until the school hours are over. If I so more like limp to the house, my mom would suspect something and would ask to check me, and if she knows anything about my little pain, I will be on a house lockdown.

She won't let me move a muscle. Won't even let me use legs to go to the washroom. She cares too damn much. It's a blessing sometimes, but a curse most of the time.

And that's what's suffocating me.

They all care too much, treat me as if I'm made of glass or something. My family's afraid that they'll make me do more hard things or even let me suffer through some pain, I'll break and would not be able to piece back together. They all are bipolar.

Sometimes they go so hard on me that I can't handle it. And when I go hard on myself, my family can't stand it. If they go hard on me, it's completely alright. But when I push my limits on what I like to do, they won't let me.

I don't even know why they do that. They have always thought of me as a weak child. Not only that, they think I am immature, that I have a mind of a five-year-old.

Really?

I'm 17, and I understand things. I'm not stupid. I may act like one sometimes to get out of things, but I know I'm not. People know I am not. Then, I don't get it why my own family thinks that I am. I can't survive them or this world if I had a mind of a five-year-old.

I'm not that naive little girl I was years ago. I'm me, and I've learned tons of things. Nature has taught me. Life, experience, my mistakes, people, and I have taught me things I know. My family taught me a few things, loved me, but not the way I needed it. What they taught me were things I would have learned eventually on my own. But I thank them anyway for what they have done for me.

I have a job that pays me well, and I write my heart out. I write things so I can make other people see the beautiful world through my eyes.

My family doesn't know that. If they knew, I wouldn't be able to do any of it. They think it's unnecessary. I'm a rich kid, and they give me more than enough money every month to spend, then why do I need to have a job? Why would I wast my time keeping up to date my blog?

They don't get it. My family doesn't get me.

I'm not the girl they raised me to be. I'm a whole different person. The way I think is entirely different than my family, including Rick. My personality, mentality, character, instincts—not one thing matches with any of them.

I like to dream, work my ass off, and make it come true. But there's this one dream I can't convert into reality: to blend in with my family happily, them understanding me like nothing other, me being completely comfortable to voice my thought in front of them or tell them something or ask for something—

But no matter how hard I try, I can't because I'm an outcast between my own family. They don't understand me, nor they try to. I've always struggled to fit in. And they have always struggled to accept me for who I am.

Sometimes, I just want to run away—away from them. I love my family, no shit, I have to. They are family. But then, I thought the family was something you were supposed to come home to, something you first turn to when you feel down, something you feel comfortable around, something that will love you no matter who you are.

But instead, what I call family is none of that. Only they are related to me by blood, and they have to love me. They do, or so I think.

"Arrivederci!" Harvey hollers before shutting the door behind him as he leaves for the school. And he speaks Italian.

After a while, Finch comes back with two white round pills I asked him for as Harvey left. He said these are the strongest he could find, which are going to take at least an hour to react. Now, I have to wait around for at least an hour for these painkillers to start its work.

I almost snort out loud.

It's hard to sit around and not be able to do anything because your body doesn't cooperate. It's the worst feeling ever, for your body not being able to respond as the way you want it to be.

I take out my mini laptop from my bag and decide to at least get some work done. My fingers move furiously on the keypad as I list down the new ideas about automobile improvement. I lost myself in my work; I always do. I love what I do.

The alarm goes off on my phone, indicating me the one hour is over and I can finally use my legs for obvious things without going through that horrible pain.

Fantastic.

I pack my things in my backpack. I stand up without thinking, the sudden movement causes a little pain, but nothing I can't handle. But I curse under my breath anyway. At that, Finch looks up from his laptop and glances at me questioningly.

"The hour's up and seems like your painkillers did its job pretty good. Now that I can walk, there's no reason for me to be here. I should get going," I grab my bag from the couch before Finch can say anything.

"Thanks for all of this, Finch. I owe you one," I say softly "Whenever you need my help, you know where to find me, just don't knock on my door when my family's home, which is almost always. But my window is available," I chuckle lightly, "Besides, you see me every morning," I shrug, and he chuckles at that raising his eyebrows.

"That, you are not coming tomorrow until you get well," He warns pointedly

I force him a smile, not bothering to correct him. I just nod. I know tomorrow at four in the morning. I will find myself out of the house in my workout clothes again. I can't help it.

I nod him farewell before getting out of the house, ignoring the slight pain walking brings. He offered a ride, but I refused. I wanted to get some things done since I can't go back to my house until the school hours are over.

And going back to school today, well, I don't feel like spending the rest of my time listening to the teachers. I can ask for notes tomorrow.

Nice.

* * *

Family is the people who stand by your side and support you through all the ups and down. Those with whom you share blood, sometimes that's the only thing you have in common.