You're Not Enough

Chapter 4

The ride home has been quiet. I know my mom is scared to say something to me. I can feel her eyes shift to me every minute, every turn we take. I want to say something, but I'm not. My parents lied. They told Mrs. Forbes, I've been away at boarding school. We live in a small town, and Mrs.Forbes is a gossip; I know she told everyone, including her daughter, and knowing her daughter, she went on to tell everyone at school.

I'm mad at my parents, but I can't be too upset. What were they supposed to say when people asked where I was. Our daughter tried to take her own life on her bathroom floor, so we sent her away to a mental health facility. Of course not; it would've ruined their reputation, ruined our family name, and I know that's important to them.

It's my fault they had to lie in the first place.

Everything is always my fault.

"I'm sorry." My mother says as we pull into the driveway.

"It's okay," I say sincerely now that I realized that I am the problem once again.

"We weren't planning on lying. We weren't, but we decided it would be best if no one knew. We did it for you." I somewhat believe they did it for me, but knowing them, I know they did it for them first, before me. "We knew eventually you would come back, and we didn't want people to be in your business in our business." She places her hand on top of mine. "We are going through this together; you are not alone." My mother tries to assure me.

I am alone though, they try, but they will never really understand what I'm going through; they'll never understand how fucked up my head is.

I don't say anything. I nod my head and look out the window. My dad heading towards the car. He opens the door for me, letting me out.

"Did you girls have fun?" he asks.

"Yeah." My mother answers while wiping her damp eyes.

"I can tell!" A smirk comes across my father's face as he looks to the back of the car, noticing all the bags.

"Oh, shut up." My mother says jokingly.

My mother is now out of the car too. My father grabs her embracing her in a tight hug, kissing the top of her forehead. My mother looks up at him. I see that little sparkle that creeps into my father's eyes. They love each other; they really do.

I've questioned their love for me a million times, but I have never questioned the love they have for each other.

There was a time when I thought I would one day have that type of love, endless...infinite love.

I don't want that anymore. Love is overrated. Love won't make me happy; love won't make me want to live. Nothing will. No one will.

They release each other from their hug. "Let's get these bags." my lovestruck father says.

...

It's 8 o'clock now, I ate the leftover pizza for dinner, and then I came upstairs to put my new clothes away.

"Jayda!" my father calls my name from downstairs.

I rush down the stairs into the living room. "Dad," I call, looking around; he isn't in the living where it sounded like he called me from.

"I'm in my study," he yells from down the hall. I walk into his study. He puts his hand out, gesturing to me to sit in the chair. I move towards the chair and slide into the leather seat in front of his wooden desk. "Your mom couldn't bring herself to talk to you, so it was decided that I will speak with you."

"Okay," I say. This can't be good. Any time something serious is going to happen, my dad is the one to talk to me. He's the strict one. My mom is somewhat the fun one. Usually, my dad uses my mom to tell me things when it's something they know I will hate, and since my mom couldn't do it, it must be bad. I start plucking the rubber band on my wrist.