Prepare your feels, I got a little emotional writing this; but it needed to be done. This chapter explains the reason why Jade is so morbid, creepy and standoffish.
Like the story? Please hit the favourite button or take a few seconds to give me a review. It helps a lot to know you enjoyed my story and it gives me incentive to write faster (also it makes me feel good knowing you like it). Anyway, please enjoy :)
Chapter 4 – Confliction
Jade
Here I was again, sitting in my car outside my house, staring at the building as if I could somehow burn it down with my eyes. The only reason I was here, was because I needed spare clothes. My mother had tried to call me several times, which was a surprise. Although when I listened to the voicemail all it did was harden my resolve about staying homeless.
She had been drunk (of course), and she only called me to remind me of what a horrible daughter I was. She also felt it was necessary to remind me that it was my fault dad had left. It was my fault he had remarried and of course it was my fault that he was now happy with his new family, and not his old one.
I sighed.
Tori had to stay back after school to practice a song her and Andre were working on together for an assignment. I didn't really care; right now all I wanted was to be alone with my feelings.
The house was big an ominous as it always was; with its dull colour and all of the windows that were either barred or closed.
It seemed like an old abandoned haunted house if anything.
There were cobwebs everywhere and the garden was so full of weeds and long grass as it had been since the gardener refused to come back and tend to it. He told me a strange lady kept trying to seduce him.
Of course because of my mother I couldn't persuade any other services to come to the house; not even pizza because of that very same reason.
My mother completely lost her dignity when dad had left.
I approached the front door, it was large and it was hardwood. I considered knocking first, but I didn't want to face my mother on the off chance that she was sober.
All I wanted to do was just to go inside, get my stuff and then never come back.
When I opened the door, I was hit with the smell of cigarette ash and alcohol. I found my mom sprawled out on the couch passed out. She was gripping a half a bottle of vodka, and two other empty bottles were scattered around her.
This was nothing new to me.
I often came home to this gruesome sight; the only difficult part was getting her upstairs into her bed without her abusing me physically and emotionally so much so I couldn't hide it behind a façade or makeup.
Leaving her there had crossed my mind. But she was still my mom, and although all I felt for her was hatred; she was still a person. And she looked so pathetic just lying there, if I didn't do something I would feel even worse than what I do now.
"Come on, mom." I murmured to her and hooked one of her arms over my shoulder.
It took a lot of effort and a lot of shouting, but I finally got her up the stairs and into her own bed.
She had hit me twice, and I suffered a round of insults and an interesting bout of swear words before she vomited to the side of her bed and then passed out again.
It was going to be a long weekend.
Once I had her cleaned up, I quickly gathered most of my things (plus my favourite scissors) into whatever could fit in my backpack and was out of the front door in no less than a few minutes.
My phone started buzzing as soon as I had put my seatbelt on. I stared at the screen; her name seemed to cut through all of the frustration and anger I was feeling… and replaced it with a warm fuzzy one.
It was Tori of course.
Stupid Vega.
I considered not answering it. I considered just starting up the car and driving as far away as I could out of this stupid town, away from this stupid school, free myself from my stupid broken family and forget all of my emotions.
But I couldn't.
Some irrational part of my brain refused to let myself go. It forced my hand to my phone. It forced my fingers to answer the call and it forced my arm up to press the phone to my ear.
Stupid Vega.
"Hello?" I said in monotone.
"Hey, Jade. It's Tori." She sounded as bubbly and happy as she usually did.
What I would give to feel like that right now.
"So?" I replied, gripping the steering wheel tight. "What do you want?"
She didn't seem put off by my hostility at all, in fact I thought I heard her smiling. "Well you weren't here when I got home so I was just wondering where you were?"
"I had some things to do. And the thought of being alone with Trina while she practices her singing is a punishment that should only be enforced on serial killers."
She giggled, and I found myself smiling slightly.
Stupid Vega.
Why was she making me feel these things?
I heard Trina singing in the background, and then I heard Tori telling her to keep it down. "I agree." She said, still smiling.
"Look, there's just one more thing I have to do. I'll be at your house in an hour."
"Awesome, I'll warm some popcorn. I found some movies I just know you'll love."
I couldn't help but smile again as I hung the phone up.
But my short bout of happiness didn't last long.
The graveyard was as morbid and eerie as it usually was when the sun was setting. All of the graves seemed alike, and they all seemed like they were staring at me with invisible eyes.
I loved it here.
Sometimes I wished zombies were real, and that one would bite me and I too would become undead; feeding off other human flesh. Not thinking. Not feeling. Just existing to cause other people pain to satisfy a hunger that never ended.
My thoughts derailed then when the reason why I was here came into view.
His grave was the same as usual.
The flowers I had placed there last year were long beyond dead and decomposing. I had a fake blood red rose in my hands this time, which I twirled around my fingertips.
I didn't say anything, I always kind of hoped ghosts existed, and that he was with me always. That he was proud of me and everything that I had done. That he was protecting me when mom got violent. Consoling me when dad never showed any affection and constantly let me down and that he was there with his good advice when things got bad.
In this world of misery, he was all I had left that I was proud to call my family.
Even if he was dead.
I placed the rose on the top of the tombstone with a heavy heart and a sinking feeling in the pit of my chest.
"Happy birthday, little bro." I muttered through tears.
I sat there for a long time. Not moving, not saying anything. Just staring at the fading words on the tombstone and crying.
"I wish you were here. You always tried to protect me." I wiped my eyes with the palms of my hands. "You were always there for me, no matter what. But the moment you needed me I couldn't protect you. I couldn't be there for you. And I will never forgive myself. I'm so sorry."
I thumped my fists on the ground in anger, and then pressed my face against my legs tightly; as if it would absorb my shame and guilt.
"I'm so, so sorry."
Just slightly, I imagined I felt a small hand on my shoulder.
His hand.
Despite everything; despite mom becoming a mess after he died, despite dad leaving because of it and despite how broken inside our family always was…
...I felt something new and different slice through all of my anger and frustration, my confused feelings for Tori, my disappointment in my mother and the abandoning feeling of my dad…
It was forgiveness.
My brother had forgiven me.
...I had forgiven myself.