𝐷𝐸𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐴𝑇𝐸 | 𝙜𝙞𝙡𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩 𝙗𝙡𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙚

| ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

{ sɪᴄᴋ }

| Lily |

"We took it too far this time," I hear my father tell my mother with a quiet sigh as I make my way up the stairs, having just finished dinner. Confused by his statements I sit in my usual spot on the stairs I use to eavesdrop. What is he talking about?

"I saw you with that boy," he continues, "you had no right to blame him. We are the ones who know the truth."

"How else was I supposed to keep him away from her," she defends herself, but I just grow more confused, "he's not good for her, he'll make her want to leave." I can hear the frustration in her voice.

"Maybe it's time," he suggests, "maybe it's time Lily got better." My brows furrow upon hearing his words, they can't control that, no one can.

"No," she refused sternly, I can feel the rising tension from several feet away, "we can keep doing what we've been doing. It's worked for so long. We'll just pull her out of school again. Things can go back to the way they were." There's obvious panic in her tone as she rants on, my mind jumbles, trying to put sense to the words she was speaking.

"Don't you feel guilty?" my father asks abruptly, raising his voice slightly, "I hate seeing her like this. She's our little girl. We can't keep doing this to her." Confused tears begin to form in my eyes as I slowly piece together what's really happening.

"Exactly," my mother boomed to match his volume, "she's our little girl, and we need to keep her here with us. The only way to do that is the medicine."

"Stop calling it medicine," my father full-on yells now, "you know that's not what it is. This needs to stop, she doesn't have to find out, but it needs to end."

My entire body begins to shake with the realization. My whole life, a lie. I feel disgusting, uncomfortable in my own skin. They did this to me. They kept me here for the last five years. They made me sick at the funeral. They caused the initial incident that started it all. They poisoned me, and I had no idea.

I hazily walk into my room, feeling sick to my stomach. I hurriedly make my way to my window, opening it frivolously and puking into the snow below me. My skin crawls, lips quivering from the shock. I look around my room, my cage, tears falling carelessly down my face. I can't be here anymore. Going into action I furiously begin packing my things with shaking hands, the only thing on my mind now being to escape here as soon as possible.

"Lily?" I hear my mother ask softly, "what are you doing dear?" She makes her way over to me, but I back up, not even daring to look into her eyes.

"Don't come near me!" I yell at her, picking up my bag before heading towards the door.

"Sweetie, what's the matter?" she approaches me still, attempting to put a hand on my arm.

"No!" I scream, moving to the side, my father joined her in the room, "you did this to me! You kept me here, kept me sick! You took away my life!" I can barely see from the tears as I rush down the stairway to the door turning to face them and my prison one last time