Return II

Chapter 12

Blanket's POV

I haven't been out of my room in two whole days. I have done nothing but think and listen to music. The only time my family sees me is when I have to leave for school. I don't talk to any of them, and I hardly even look at them. I haven't eaten in a while, either. My grandma brought food up to me a couple times, becuase I refused to go down stairs when she called us to dinner.

I don't know what it is that has me acting this way; I've just been feeling ultimately depressed. I can't help but feel as if seeing my family will only make things worse for me.

A couple times, Paris and Prince tried knocking on my door telling me to open up, but they stopped when I never answered them. I kind of feel bad that I'm making them feel bad, but when I feel a certain way, I can't help but express it. I know they're worried about me, I mean, even I'm worried about me. I won't do anything stupid though. That's just not me. Besides, the last thing our family needs right now is another one of their kids in the hospital. 

Paris went to the hospital once: last year. I don't know exactly what happened, but the doctors told us that she overdosed on painkillers. She lost a pint of blood and almost went into a coma with the combination of those two things. I was hurt. Deeply hurt. Ever since my dad left, Paris and I have gotten extremely close and when my grandma found her unconscious in the bathroom, I didn't know what to feel. 

I was angry at my sister. Infuriated. I couldn't, and still can't, believe that she would ever do such a thing. And I don't think my dad even knows about it. And if he does, he didn't do anything about it. 

It would be better to keep it that way, though.

Anyway, remembering Paris's situation made me even more upset. Realizing that both of my sisters have been in the hospital hurts. And I sometimes assume that Natalie's situation wasn't an accident. I get the feeling all the time.

"Blanket?" Grandpa Joe's voice sounds from behind my door as he taps on it. My heart leaps and I sit up within seconds. "Yeah?" I say as I rub my face. "We're going up to visit Nat... y'anna come?" 

"Um, yeah." I stutter and hop off of my bed. "Be down in a sec." I listen as my grandpa's footsteps trail off. I hear his voice, but I cannot make out what he is saying, or who he is talking to.

I dig through my dresser drawers, trying to find something to wear for the day. My phone buzzes on my bed and I jump up to check it.

Mom.

I slide the screen to the right to read the text message she sent me.

"4 days, bubba. I want you to be here as much as possible. I love you so much."

Bubba is what my mom always used to call me when I was little. I never really liked the nickname, but it seems as if every mother calls her young son by that nickname when he's little. I've always liked being called Blanket, though. My dad told me what the nickname meant in a letter last year. Apparently, he wrote all of us letters a long time ago, but didn't send them until last year. Paris cried like a baby reading hers. Prince and I didn't seem to really care, but that was on the outside. On the inside, we cared a lot. We missed him just as much as everyone else, but we didn't want to show it.

Remembering the letter, I dig through the bottom drawer of my dresser and find it, but as soon as I go to open it, the car horn sounds and my grandpa's voice echoes through the front yard. I flinch and shove the old paper into my back pocket.

I quickly change into a t-shirt and jeans, then walk out of my room and  into the bathroom. I look in the mirror and tie my hair back with one of Paris's hair ties. I then run down the stairs and out the front door as quickly as possible.

"Took you long enough." Grandma chuckles and I roll my eyes at my feet. "Sorry." I mumble and she places her hand on my knee. I look up at her and she nods and smiles. I attempt at a smile, but she turns around before she is able to see it. 

I stare out the window and remember that it is Wednesday. "Why am I skipping school?" I ask confusedly. Grandpa looks at me through the rear view mirror. "Because, you obviously need some time off. You're going through a lot, and school will just add to you more stress. Don't worry, son, we talked to your guidance counselor already."

"Why aren't the other kids skipping then? They're going through the same thing." I fire back daringly, my grandpa glares at me through the rear view mirror.

"Yes, but they told us that they were okay to go. They had the choice to stay or go, and they chose to go." Grandma answers calmly. "But I didn't. You just kept me home without asking." I claim, staring out the window. I can feel both pairs of their eyes on me. I couldn't help the attitude I caught. 

"Yes, honey, because we didn't want you to feel anymore pressure than you already do."

"Who said I feel pressure?"

"We can see it, sweetheart."

"I feel fine, take me to school." I demand. My eyes widen after a few seconds and my grandpa and I meet eyes simultaneously. "Please," I quickly add, trying to cover up the rudeness of my tone. "I can't miss anymore days. I probably have mountains piled high of homework." 

My grandma shakes her head. "We talked to your counselor about that, too. You're fine." She explains. "Blanket, you don't have to go back yet if you're not ready." Grandpa speaks. I turn my head to face him. I sigh and sit back, staring out of the window again. "I am. Can I go, please?" I ask and he nods, finally giving in.

"Okay."