-Helen's POV-
//4 years ago\\
They're fighting again. They started after dinner. Its now 12:21 AM and they're down the hallway from my bedroom. I lay under my covers, holding my hands over my ears, hoping for it to end.
"I can't believe this. Eleven years of marrige just tossed away because I lost my job! I already feel bad enough without you doing this." My dad was yelling and crying. He never cries.
"You never help me, never spend time with me," mom yelled back. "Ever since Helen's birthday, you've been distant. You only spend your time with her!"
"We almost lost her! My baby girl almost died!"
"Your baby girl? I'm the one who gave birth to her!" Mom was screaming now.
I hated when they fought about me, but they always did. Everything is always my fault, and she always reminds me. I curled up tighter under my covers.
Their voices got louder and louder, cusses thrown, walls hit. With every yell, my tears got thicker until my pillow was soaked.
"The only reason I married you was so I would have someone in my life. After my father died I was lost and wanted a man to be there," she said softly. "Looks like you didn't fit the bill." I could feel the venom and hatred in her voice. I could tell dad was fuming, even though I couldn't see him.
Dad stormed down the stairs and into the living room. I could hear mom's footsteps run after him. What was happening?
"Tell Helen I love her and I'll see her when I can." Barely hearing what he was saying, I got out of bed and crept to the top of the stairs.
He opened the door, went out, and slammed it closed before mom could do anything.
She opened the door and ran outside, following dad. I rushed to my bedroom window and watched them from above.
Mom pounded on dad's car saying, "You can't leave me! Not by myself!"
He pulled his blue car out of the driveway. Dad drove down the street and turned by the gas station on the corner.
Mom stood at the end of the driveway, staring after him, for about five minutes.
She turned around and looked up at my bedroom. I ducked down before she could see me. Running towards my bed, I heard mom open and slam the door. Sobbing came from downstairs.
In bed, I listened as mom walked up the steps and slowly opened my door behind me.
"This is all your fault. If you hadn't fallen down the stairs on your birthday, none of this would have happened," she whispered. "One look before you ran down the stairs was all it took. You wouldn't have broken your neck and almost died. We wouldn't wave spent so much money on you. Your father wouldn't have taken off so much time off of work, so much that he was fired." She paused. "He wouldn't have left me with you."
I tried not to move, or breathe, or listen. But the harder I tried, the faster the silent tears rolled down my face.
She turned around and left, closing my door with a soft click.
This is all your fault. You did this! Why couldn't you have been perfect? Stopped them before your dad left? Because you're not perfect. You never will be. You're a failure. A waste of space. You'll never amount to anything. That's why your dad left. Your mom hates you now.
She was whispering in my head again. Telling me things about myself that I didn't want to hear.
You're nothing
Worthless
Ugly
Waste
Imperfect
Failure
Failure
FAILURE
~Author's Note~
So this is my first story. I hope I'll be able to write it reguarly! Let me know if you like it, and if you do, please spread it around if you can. Thanks loves!
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