Apathic

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Omg, I am so sorry for the wait! I've finally been able to write without it looking like I gave my work to a three-year-old.
I don't make any promises about this chapter, but I hope it's okay.
Enjoy.

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"I was... friends, with your father... before his passing."

"I'm sorry, chica... but... that was not your father... it was a lie to get you to go with him... that man was your uncle..."

"You look and sound just like your mother, but with your father's nose."

"It was too soon... my sweet bambino..."

"I'm going to meet my mamma and my papa. Right, nonna?"

"Your mother? Well, when I first met her, she had a wild spirit just like your father... I guess that's why they got along so well since the very beginning..."

I felt like I was drowning even though the only source of water was kilometres away from me. Every word that flew around me stung like a bullet that stabbed through my skin faster than the eye could see, forcefully trying to push me over the edge while the person with the gun just watched in satisfaction, as they forced me too re-live what I've been running from for years... what I hoped wasn't true... what I found out was reality...

"...Dad?"

"Claire!"

"Ah, the meat bag won't talk. You know, no free will."

"I never met my parents... I've heard of them... mostly about my mom, but never actually met them."

"He's after me... please, I need your help..."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I forced you to come with me... I made you fight your own sister... I... I... I'm sorry... it's all my fault..."

Opening my eyes, I stared at the plain white ceiling. The thoughts that fought to consume me were getting stronger, and it felt like they were just desperate voices that wanted to leave the back of my mind in order to have easier access to the torment they wanted to put me through.

With a forceful shove, I pushed them to the back of my mind and placed a lock and key over them... for the time being, that is... until they found a way to break through again.

As the peaceful silence overtook my mind, I counted how long it had been since that Godforsaken day. One... two... three... four... five... six... six days have passed. In other words, almost a full week... I've spent nearly an entire week in this measly white-walled room, staring blankly at everything around me... 'Pathetic...' Ignoring the world outside of my self-pity... my self-loathing...

During this entire time period, I've felt alone, stupid and just plain old pathetic. I knew that what happened wasn't my fault, but I wasn't even strong enough to stop it, to save myself or to keep control of my mind, my body... my actions...

Finding out that my father was gone, that I'd never get a chance to meet him and that the man I met was not the one I've dreamt of meeting, but a fake... those are the things that hurt the most... not my lack of psychological strength. Not my weakness to fight back. Not the disappointments of these last few weeks, even though, they still stung like hell. No, it was finding out how easy it is to have your world shatter into a million pieces after countless misfortunes, that followed after each other, not missing the first chance at causing trouble. It was finding out how quickly everything can go wrong. It's finding out that your worst nightmare can become reality...

I know that this reaction isn't the one I should be having, but I didn't really care... not right now, at least...

"Felishity? (A/N: I find this an adorable way of pronouncing her name.)" A soft voice broke through my soundproof barrier trying to, ever so kindly, get my attention. "Are you hungry?"

But I didn't answer. I didn't even look. I just maintained eye contact with the ceiling, not caring about what was going on around me or who spoke. They knew what my answer was going to be, with or without me answering. I wasn't hungry, and I haven't been for the past few days. Sure, I've eaten a little, but I mostly just stare at the food and take less than half off of the plate before forcing myself into slumber.

I also haven't really spoken to anyone, even though, I was and am, well aware that I'm probably worrying them... My way of answering any questions being only a nod, a shake of the head or just pure ignorance. Sure, I knew, at the very least, what was going on around me. I just didn't show any interest. I didn't even say anything or react when I felt someone pick me up, take me to the living room and set me down on the couch.

I heard mixed voices behind me and, as per usual, chose to ignore them. There was a flock of birds passing by our windows so, like the pitiful person I am, I decided to watch them fly away... away from their problems... away from here... with every chance at being free... until someone found a way to put them in a cage... or shoot them down...

"Kanojo wa tabemasen... (She won't eat...) I don't know what to do..."

I heard an annoyed sigh coming from behind me before Tye answered. "I'll talk to her." And within seconds, he stood in front of me, covering my vision to the outside world... from the flock of birds that silently flew away.

But, even so, I didn't move my head to look him straight in the eyes; instead, I stared through him as if he wasn't there. I know, I shouldn't, and I should show some sign of response, but I couldn't bring myself to do so... I stopped caring if I seemed weak or if my problems were becoming too obvious... I mean... I care... obviously, but I just can't bring myself to show it...

"Felicity, look at me." No movement. No answer. "Felicity." Nothing. "Look at me!" Grabbing my shoulders roughly, Tye forced me to look up at him. His voice didn't rise, not even a little. If anything, it got lower as his order threw itself into my brain.

"... Ow..." That's the first thing I've said in days, and it was barely above a whisper. A chocked out whisper that scratched my throat.

"Stop ignoring us." Maintaining eye contact with him was hard especially since I knew that he wouldn't let me look away until this was fixed and I started listening, but even so, I just stared blankly into his eyes. Hopefully, he would leave me alone... "You're getting everyone worried by not wanting to eat and by staying cooped up in your room without saying a word or even looking at us."

I continued staring without answering. "I don't think she's listening..."

"She is. She just doesn't want to show it."

"How do we-"

"This is stupid!"

"Ed, what do-"

"We get what you're going through, but come on!"

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Looking up at the Argentinian boy, I felt a lump form itself in my throat as his words hit me. "I... I'm sor-" Before I even had time to react, the words were already running out my mouth, causing more pain to shoot up my throat.

"And don't apologize for how you feel either! It's not like it's your fault that you feel the way you do! But it is your fault that you still feel like that. You're not doing anything to make yourself feel better! You've just been sitting there looking... destruida... for the past week!"

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