Warning: If you do NOT like the idea of violence, physical abuse (rape) or anything in that category, don't read. I warned you before hand. My apologies if this is offensive in some way, feel free to message me and we can talk.

Author's note: New story! Brittany's POV. Hope I get as many readers as The Journey to Love! Just so you people know, I do not hate Artie and I do not always see him as the bad guy in every fic. He's a nice guy. Haha. AND I always write angst related things. It's not for anyone to be offended. Thank you if you're reading.

Prologue

Ever since my mother died from cancer two years ago, life seems so much harder. I struggle with things I'd thought she'd be here to help me with, but she's not. My father, Adam Pierce, is an orthodontist. We barely get along. My step-mother, Karen Evans, is a beauty specialist in a salon. She moved in with her son, Sam Evans, weeks after my mother died. He and I get along well now.

As my mother lay in that hospital bed, my father was disrespecting her presence by meeting up with Karen.

Working late...

Early morning tomorrow...

He'd make up excuses shamelessly and still had the nerve to kiss my mother goodbye. I couldn't tell my own mother that her husband was being unfaithful behind her back, but it was too late. She already knew.

I know your father, Brittany. she began and licked her dry lips. He's with someone else and that's okay. Don't give him a hard time.

You don't deserve this, mom. Not you.

No one does, but I'd rather let it be myself than any other person.

Karen tried taking her place. Whatever she had planned just resulted in a huge waste of time. No one can take my mother's place. She tried rearranging the couches. The table, the vases, but I didn't let her. I wanted everything to stay in place because it reminded me of my mom.

What are you doing? I asked one evening as she began to move the sofa in a different position.

This place needs a different vibe. she replied rudely and stopped her movement.

Everything was fine where it was. I retorted and clenched my teeth angrily. My father walked into the living room from the corridor and threw me a glare. It didn't matter to me what he thought. I breathed out deeply and shook my head. Everything was fine before you came.

I ran to my backyard irritated and sat on the wooden bench I built with my mother when I was younger. We did everything together. My father was barely in the picture, but when he was, I just gave him a hard time. When I'd get into trouble with him, he'd yell at the top of his lungs. Tears would stream down my face like a massive waterfall. I'd run out to the backyard and let the tears stream freely down my face because I didn't want him to see me cry. Then, Mother came outside to console me.

Ocean eyes, ocean eyes

Don't you cry

The storm has blown over

Look up at the sky

My eyes looked up and saw her. Her bright smile when she sang the small melody always managed to calm me down. Her thumb stroked the tear lingering on my cheek bone and her arms would wrap around me tightly. Then, she reached for a bright, yellow sunflower in the garden and tucked it behind my ear. She was my sky. She was the bright blue sky after the ugly storm.

As the cancer spread throughout her body, her doctor told us it was best to spend time with her. Immediately, I cleaned the guest room and put all her stuff inside. Everything was neatly placed and not one piece of furniture had a speck of dust. Her body was fragile and I felt like I needed to be with her ever second of every minute.

One January morning, I woke up to see how she was doing, if she she needed anything, how she felt. Only the day before I told her that she could make it. She could fight the cancer like she fought for everything else in life. It didn't work.

Mom? I called for her when I knocked on the door before stepping in. Slowly, I walked over to where she lay. Still and lifeless. My mouth parted to speak, but only a shriek escaped from my throat. Quickly, my father ran in and raced to my mother's side.

Michelle! he shouted her name and grabbed onto her cold hand. Michelle, wake up!

The ambulance came, but they couldn't revive her. She was gone, and I knew it, I just didn't want to believe it.

You gotta let go, Brittany.

No! Mom, please-

Just let it go. my father grabs my arm forcefully and drags me aside. My entire world collapsed before me in a matter of seconds.

Honestly, I dreaded that week. Her last week with me. My bones hurt, my head hurt, my heart hurt, but the pain never compared to what she went through.

All the pain in her body she withheld so that I wouldn't see. Why? Why? She didn't have to act strong with me. I knew she was. Watching her with the chemotherapy was the most painful thing I've experienced. All her hair abandoned different areas of her body. Her lips; chapped and purple from dehydration. If she had a chance to eat, she'd bring it back up anyway. Stamina was lost, she had no energy. Her face was so pale, I missed the glow she had when she stood in the sun. Yet, she smiled so beautifully and gave me hope that she'd be okay.

The funeral was held a week after, and then days after that, I summed up the courage to step into her bedroom. Her bed sheets still not folded properly and her slippers were tucked beneath her bed. Hospital bags rested in the corner of the room along with empty water filters. Photos of us together filled the room and her clothing hung in the closet with the scent of her perfume. I stepped into her closet and saw a pink cookie jar with my name in yellow letters. As soon as I opened the top, my eyes landed on money. All the savings she kept since I was born. It was the amount was written in a small piece of paper. $3,970. Following it, there is a note folded into three sections.

Brittany,

My ocean eyes. You must know that I tried, I really did. All the pain that I went through wasn't for me, it was for you. If it were up to me, I would have left such a long time ago. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. It was the hardest part out of everything; saying goodbye. I didn't because I'll still be with you, guiding you through everything. Just look up at the sky and I'll be there. I promise. I love you, ocean eyes. So much.

Love, Mom.

I closed the letter and let a fresh tear stream down my cheek. The letter in my hand ended up on the floor and the jar of money tipped over as I cradled myself in her clothing, inhaling her scent. My heart aches when I look at how many things she didn't spend on herself just to save up for me. That very moment made me feel like my entire life was just a waste. Without her, who am I?