Intern

Hate Me

Chapter 7: Hate Me
Roni-Ann

"Hey, guys! I'm home."

"Brandon?" I call out for my brother, not hearing his immediate response.

"Brandon's at work still. He's training someone." I hear my sister mumble and I look around, seeing her at the fireplace.

She throws something inside of it and I tilt my head to see.

"Sena, what the hell?"

She was throwing my stuff into the fire.

Throwing my bag down, I run towards her and trying to stop her but she throws the last bit of things in, watching them burn.

"That was my blanket. Mom bought that for me."

"I threw your favorite pillowcase from dad in there too, some clothes. And your pictures of them." Sena shrugs, dusting her hands off. "You're lucky the music box didn't make the cut."

"Why?" I pout, keeping my tears in. "I bought those clothes myself."

"Murderers don't deserve nice things!"

"I didn't kill them!" I sob, breaking down completely.

"You were in the car when it happened. You're the one who survived. It was your birthday." Sena grits out, her tone laced with venom.

"Mommy pushes me out the car before it flipped over. I didn't know it would flip."

"I don't want to hear it, Roni."

"Then why bring it up?" I ask, standing up again.

"So that you don't forget your mistakes."

Sena turns her back to me and walks into the living room as I go upstairs.

I was tired. Tired of her always neglecting me.

"I'm not a murderer."

I'm just the one to blame.

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"Are you bipolar?"

"Why do you ask?" Mr. Hayes grumbles, running a hand through his hair.

"One minute you're laughing with me and the next you're heartless." I shrug, sitting in front of him.

Mr. Hayes looks up and smirks, playing with a strand of his hair. "Listen, we are not friends. Just because I may be 'nice' somethings, doesn't mean shit, Princess."

"I understand. But if you want to be friends, just say so." I smile, copying his actions.

"I won't have to." Mr. Hayes spins around in his chair before stopping again, thinking about something. "Why does my mom know you?"

"She probably just bought cosmetics from me." I giggle nervously, brushing his question off. "I used to own a small line before my sister took it from me."

"Took it?" He raises an eyebrow, leaning closer to me. "You know, I never knew you were alive until a month ago."

I inhale sharply and sit back, crossing my legs. "That's sad. I'm literally the 'R' in 'S.B.R. Forces'. How could you not think there was a third child?"

"People don't talk about you much. Why not?"

Sitting still, I think of my next words. "My parents didn't really want to involve me with media when I was younger. It just stuck, I guess."

A pain comes to my head as I mention that but I ignore it, continuing to talk to him.

I get bad headaches when I think about my parents, things we used to do together, or stuff they taught me.