No One Can Love Me

Chapter 2

My dad pulls into the driveway and I get out of the car. I open the door and head up stairs. "I'm taking a shower!" I yell, my voice cracking from me crying. I burst into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

I rinse my cuts under the sink then strip myself of my wet clothes. I look at my body in the mirror, judging every aspect about it. I run my hand along the tattoo above my right hipbone. It's a monarch butterfly; my mom had always told me that when she died she wanted to come back as a monarch butterfly. I then let my eyes fall a little lower. On my hips are about 400 of the 498 scars. Some of them are old and some of them are new.

I then bring my eyes up to my face. My ice blue eyes are puffy from crying and my long dark brown hair is in a messy bun. I take it out and let it fall on my shoulders. With my hair down it made features seem more exaggerated. I actually looked pretty, but I never wore my hair down sense my mom got sick. I didn't want anymore attention then I was already receiving. A bunch of sympathy from friends and family or even strangers who claimed to know her. I didn't like it, they made it seem like she was dead before she actually was.

I pull my self away from the mirror and step into the shower, letting the warm water hit my body. I don't know how long I was cradling myself in the corner of the shower but I figured it was a long time because eventual my dad knocked on the bathroom door telling me that dinner was ready.

I bring myself out of the shower and wrap a towel around me. I go to my room and fish out some pj's out of one of the boxes and get dressed. I put my wet hair in a ponytail and join my dad down stairs for dinner. On the table are 3 plates and a bowl of spaghetti in the middle. I sit down and look around me for the third person but I can't find one. Then it hits me. He set one up for mom.

I stare at the empty space where the plate is. "Kassie what are you starring at honey?" My dad asks.

"Dad," I say gesturing towards the plate.

"Oh. Um, sorry it's just a habit," he tells me. I see his smile fade as he picks up the plate. His ice blue eyes have dark circles under them and his black hair is a mess. Moms death has gotten to him. At first he looked okay but eventually his face started showing that he was hurt. I know he's supposed to stay positive for me but I can't blame him for grieving.

I barely eat my food, my stomach is just not up for it. I practically crawl myself upstairs to my bedroom. Seeing the boxes on the ground reminds me that we're moving tomorrow. My dad thought it would be good to move away from all the tragedy and start new. I never really had any good friends here so leaving won't be as hard, and at least no one will know who I am and no one will play the sympathy card on me. I guess that's a positive.

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Again I'm sorry for the short chapters. I don't really like this chapter that much but oh well😕