Hate

Chapter 6

I wake up with my mom tapping my shoulder, "we are here," she tells me.

I get out of the car and walk inside the building. I feel miserable and walking into a room full of coughing people isn't helping.

My mom guides me to a chair and I sit down while my mom goes to the front and comes back with a clipboard and a shitload of paper work.

The doctor calls my name and leads me into a freezing room. The doctor tells me to sit down on the bed and then she leaves the room.

Then some other guy comes and gives me a thermometer to put under my tongue. "104F," he informs me, "I'm going to have to keep you here until your fever goes down."

Ahh I don't want to stay here. It's such a depressing room and I hate it here.

The doctor comes in and puts a damp towel on my forehead. I could have done that at home! I don't need to be here. But I can't leave now... Shit.

-----

After another two hours the doctor checks my temperature, "98F," he tells me, "your free to go home."

Yes! Finally! But I don't say that aloud. It would be so awkward.....

On the way home my mom keeps saying how glad she is that I'm alright.

It was a freaking fever, no shit I'm alright.

Why am I so upset right now? I'm probably just tired I guess.

"Do you want to go shopping?" my mom randomly brings up.

"I guess, yah that sounds good," I figured this will make her happy since lately I have been kind of acting like a bitch lately.

"Great!," my mom says obviously excited.

As my mom pulls into the mall she is smiling from ear to ear.

"What?" I ask her, slightly amused.

"It's nothing, I'm just happy because we are finally spending some time together. It just that we don't do it very often and I'm glad that we finally are."

"I know." I say, smiling a little bit to show that I care.

We get down at Barnes-n-Noble, which is my mom's favorite store and lately it's been my favorite store as well.

And guess who I see? With my fucking luck, it's Rachel.

Of course. She loves books.

I walk quickly to the other side of the store without making it too obvious that I'm running away. I keep glancing over at my mom to see if she is almost finished because I already want to leave.

I walk over to her because she is taking way too long, even though it's probably been only a few minutes. When I see her she is flipping through the pages of some book that I've never heard of. After she finally decides to buy the book we walk to the front of the store to the cash register. As we were walking to the front I try to avoid Rachel, but of course, that doesn't fucking work.

"Oh my god! Clair! I haven't seen you in like forever," she says with a retarded high pitched voice, "how've you been!?"

"Fine, just great," I respond with no emotion in my voice.

"Oh, is this your sister?" she asks while looking at my mom.

She's so stupid. She has met my fucking mother before.

"No, I'm her mother." my mom says, slightly flattered.

"Wow, you could never tell. Well anyways, I gotta go, see you around!" She says with a smile. But before she leaves, she gives me a quick death glare and walks away.

Bitch.

"Well, she seems like a nice girl," my mom says, obviously not remembering the time they met in third grade.

"She's not."

"Why not?"

"You just have to get to know her in order to find out," I tell her, not wanting it to get too complicated.

That's when the cashier calls us up, breaking the awkward moment between us.

Then we buy the book and leave, without another word.

.....

As I walk in my room I plug in my earbuds and process the day I just had.

*ding-dong*

The noise made me jump. I quietly open my door and walk out to the living room to see my mom open the door. Standing outside the door is a man that I've never seen before.

My mom lets him in and catches me standing behind the couch

"Oh!" my mom exclaims, " Clair, this is David. David, this is Clair, my daughter.

"Hi," I awkwardly say to him and he waves back.

I walk back to my room. This is too much. Are they dating? I'm pretty sure they are more than 'just friends.'

Am I going to have a new dad?

The little voice in my head starts talking to me, "cut, cut, cut," the voices nearly scream at me and I feel like covering my ears. But I don't, I know they can't take over me. I am my own person, and I have to get those voices out of my head.

But the voices are so loud that they nearly lift me off my bed and push me to my dresser to my drawer, my drawer with my razor.

As I open the drawer, the razor sparkles from the light coming from lamp, as if welcoming me and is happy from my presence.

I cut. Of course I did. I can't overcome the voices in command of me.

I'm too weak.

Too weak to defend myself.

Too weak to face my fears.