Hiraeth [H.S.]

2.

^A-how we imagine Noelle (where r my skins fans at:)
2020. - present
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Wow.

I'm home.

Holmes Chapel.

A lot of shit happened in the past ten years in New York, but now I'm home again.

10 fucking years.

My mother died, she got cancer.
I know I should feel awful but I just don't. I was sad at first, but I got over it - it didn't mean much to me anyways.

She wasn't a big part in my life, we didn't get along at all. It wasn't like we hated each other, we just had a complicated relationship.

But she was nothing like my father. He also died - someone murdered him a few weeks after me and my mum moved.

I haven't shed a tear.

The motherfucking bastard deserved it. He did so much shit to my mom and I, especially my mom. He didn't hit her most of the time, but he was a good manipulator. He always made her feel guilty for something or just mentally abuse her. After we moved to New York she went to the therapist but it didn't really help her get better. She was never the same person as beforehand.

I know I should not blame her for her actions of starting drinking and drug dealing but maybe I was a little selfish.

But hey, I was just a thirteen year old kid when we moved, I just wanted someone to love me.

I did not know what normal familys do.

But I don't think normal familys even exists, everyone has their own problems.

I just wanted somebody to hug me when I was sad.

Somebody who will tell me that everything was going to be okay.

I was really depressed the first year when we moved, me and my mom left our lives and moved to America.

I think that first year in New York was really when my anxiety started to kick in.

I was mostly alone at home when my mom was God knows where. So I almost always went to pick up groceries alone and we didn't even live in q safe part of New York, so a lot of the times some guys would make comments from across the street. I remember one time when somebody started following me home, so logically, I started running but I fell and broke my foot. Thank God that the person who followed me didn't catch up to me, but maybe he just gave up.

I was only half way home when that happened and my mom didn't buy me a phone so I needed to limp all the way to our house. That really messed up my foot.

I couldn't walk for about two months in total.

I think that was the only time when she was actually nice to me.

But when my foot was out of the cast, she was back to her old habits.

And for my dad...

He was murdered a few weeks after we left, but it's not like I really care.

After my mother's funeral, I looked up different colleges and found an excellent college that especially caught my eye.