You're Not Enough

Chapter 19

I sit up on the side of my bed and place my head into my hands. After a few minutes, I grab my phone off the stand and hold the side of the button to turn it back on. When the phone turns on, I see the eight missed calls I have, all from Ryder.

I should have told him not to call me. What was his purpose of calling me eight times?

It's 8:15 now. Im so tired. I never went back to sleep; I just laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling.

After about an hour, I cut again. Cutting used to make me feel better; it made me feel something. Now, I just feel bad when I do it, but I can't stop.

I know I should talk to Rachel, but she'll tell my parents, and theyll send me back to the facility. I don't want to go back there; I can't. I can't help them from there. If I go back this time, I know that whatever little bit of their marriage is left, it'll be gone, ruined. It'll be ruined because of me. I can't let that happen. My phone rings. What does he want now? I pick the phone up off of my bed. It's my mom thank God.

"Hey, baby." She says.

"Hey, mom."

"I was planning on calling you, but I got caught up in this new case; by the time I finished, it was like three in the morning." If she would've called, I would've answered; I was up to. Then again, I wouldn't have seen her call; my phone was off.

"That's okay."

"Are you getting ready for school?" she asks.

"Yeah, but we can talk for a while; it's fine; dad is still sleeping anyway."

"Oh. How is he?"

"He's fine, mom; it's only been a day. If you miss him so much, just come back."

"No, No. I can't not. The trail starts in a week. I have to be here at the firm." she lies. I know what the real reason is.

"Dad told me you guys were having problems." I blurt out I hope she doesn't get mad at him for telling me. I'm glad he was honest with me, but I don't think she wants me to know.

"He told you that?"

"Yes, but it's okay. It isn't something you should hide or be ashamed of. It is okay. Really. I know you guys will get through this." I say honestly. I do believe it. They love each other I know they do; Ive seen the way they look at each other.

I see how my dad looks at her when she isn't looking, and I see how she looks at him when he isn't looking. She still blushes every time he pulls her into her arms and kisses her, and his face always lights up when he talks about her. They love each other, so I know they will get through whatever.

Love conquers all right?

"I love you so much, Jayda." She says I can tell she is crying.

"I love you too," I reassure her.

"You're amazing; you know that?"

"I'm not." I look down at my wrist.

"You are. Even when I'm at my worst. You always bring a smile to my face. I don't know what I would do without you. You are my life. You are the best daughter I could ever ask for." I don't say anything. I hear her sniffle. "I have to go, but Ill try to call you tonight."

"Okay." I hang up the phone.

I hate that people think more of me than I do myself. Maybe if I thought I was amazing, I would feel amazing.

People tend to believe that the more you tell a person something about themselves, the more they'll realize it.

But that isn't true. What my mother sees in me, I don't see in myself.

I never will.

...

It's 8:48. I've already taken my shower, and I'm dressed. My dad still hasn't come upstairs to get me; he hasn't yelled my name either, telling me to hurry up. I open my door and walk down the hall to my parent's room. I knock on the door.

"Dad?" I push my ear to the door. I don't hear anything. Is he still asleep? I twist the knob opening the door. My eyes go straight to his body, which is spread out across the king-sized bed.

He still has the black suit that he wore yesterday on; I walk over to the side of the bed and tap him; he doesn't budge. "Dad." I tap him again. He still doesn't wake up. My eyes go to the wooden nightstand.

I notice a half-filled glass. I pick it up and sniff. Its liquor, bourbon, to be exact.

I sit the glass back down and look over at my drunk father. Why was he drinking? Well, it's okay for him to drink, but why is he drunk? Was it the call from Mr. Diesel about the cars? My phone rings. Its Violet; I let the phone ring for a minute, contemplating if I should answer. My dad turns around and groans. His eyes barely open, but he is awake now. "Jayda." He mumbles.

I hang up my phone. She probably was wondering where I'm at. "Are you okay?" I ask him. He turns over on his back.

"Call an Uber to school. Use my card." He mutters.

"No way. I'm not leaving you like this."

"You have to go to school." He says.

"No, what I have to do is stay here to make sure you are alright." I wait for him to respond. "Dad?" He's gone again.

I take the glass off of the nightstand and walk downstairs to the kitchen. I pour the rest of the liquor down the drain and rinse out the cup. I do need to go to school. I really can't afford to miss any days. Plus, I still have to do that chapter for Brooks class, well, Ryder and me.

He probably would've hunted me down soon as I stepped on the premises. All it took was someone to threaten his precious football game, and of course now he's ready to work.

I should let him know I'm not coming to school. He'll notice if I wasn't there. Well, then again, he may not notice, and he did tell me not to call him.

If the work doesn't get done, I'll get to work by myself.

Well, then it's decided, I won't call him, and I'm not going to school.

I pull out my phone and click Violet's contact. I hope she doesn't think I'm ignoring her. I need to let at least her know that I won't be coming to school.

*hey, I saw your call. I was busy. I won't be coming to school today. My dad isn't feeling well; I don't want to leave him alone.

*awww okay, it's fine, let me know if you need anything -Violet

*Actually, can you get my work from my teachers and bring it to me after school. I'll send you my address.

*Uh yeah, okay, sounds good. I'll see you later

Violet will be the first friend to ever come over to my house. Ive never let anyone come over before. I don't know why, even when I did have friends, they never came over. I leave my phone on the island and reach into the cabinets, grabbing another glass. I fill it up with water.

I would get him aspirin also, but they hid all the pills. I walk back upstairs and into their room. I leave the glass of water on the nightstand and look at my intoxicated father one more time before shutting the door