It's A Long Ride Home, I'm Afraid. {Camren} ✔️

~{32}~

A/N: slight trigger warning for mentions about cutting, but there's nothing extremely graphic described.

~

"Real fucking mature. You're just looking for attention."

"That's not true." I retorted. "That's not something anyone should use for attention.

"Now that your mom is gone, you somehow think that people will start being your friend because they pity you."

I bit back my tears. "You're wrong."

"Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you just can't accept the fact that your mom wanted to leave you."

"What?" My voice broke.

"You heard me."

"Your mom didn't die cause she was sick, she died cause she wanted to get away from you."

Something snapped inside me. Something indescribably intense.

"And what the hell do you know?!" I yelled in her face. "She wasn't your mom!"

"Who cares? She probably would've been thrilled to have been my mom, anyways. Face it, you aren't good enough. And you never will be."

Things like this happened all the time to me.

For the longest time, I was sincerely convinced that the universe had a grudge against me.

Things always seemed to get worse as time passed on. I could never catch a break.

I was definitely the outcast in school. The weird kid with a few quirks. One of the band geeks that looked forward to that one class each and every passing day.

Even after my mother's passing, I never took a leave from school as you would usually expect someone in my situation to be doing.

I figured that I shouldn't let such a tragedy get in the way of my studies, as if I wasn't already a straight A student.

That's what mostly sparked a lot of the negativity towards me.

If I wasn't going to take a break from school, that must've meant I didn't really care about my mom dying at all, right?

I guess that's what it looked like to other people, however I never quite understood it.

Why were people always trying to put words in my mouth by saying that I was trying to seek attention?

Was it that hard to comprehend the hurt I was feeling deep inside?

My best coping mechanism was to pretend that none of it ever happened. That I would go home after school everyday, and my mom would still be waiting there for me at the front door as I got off the school bus.

Some people cope by joking about it. Others prefer to vent their feelings, and let all of the emotions out.

I always felt as though my method was unhealthy. That if I tried too hard to bottle up each and every feeling, I would inevitably explode.