A/N: thanks for the reviews, guys. I tried to write this chapter a little quicker but writers block caught me and I'm back at university so that's been getting in the way too. I hope you like this chapter, and please PLEASE let me know what you think.
Surprisingly, Stef returns about half an hour later with a cup of coffee in her hand and her face tinted red as if she has been crying and, without saying a word, she sits down on a chair in the corner of the room.
For the rest of the night, she stays in that chair without saying a word to you and you drift in and out of sleep. It isn't until 9am, when you are set to be released and you are dressed and waiting to go, that she decides to speak.
"You are going to be staying off of school for the rest of the week so that you can get better. You'll also be grounded for the next two weeks with no TV, computer or phone. Any questions?"
You shake your head.
You don't quite know how to speak.
The ride home is silent and, when you get into the house, everyone has already left for school. Stef ushers you into the kitchen and makes bacon and eggs and you both sit silently with the food placed in front of you when it is ready.
You push the bacon around the plate and take a few sips of water, waiting for conversation to start. You wait for her to ask questions or be annoyed or shout at you. You want her to shout at you.
Nothing. Not one word.
What should you expect? You hurt her. It should be you that is speaking, but you can't seem to form words.
You push back from the table to go lie down and she clears her throat. "You haven't finished eating."
You ignore her and keep walking, tears are welling up and you can't be bothered crying in front of her. You just need a minute alone. Just a minute.
"Callie, don't walk away from me."
Her voice is drained of all emotion. Tired. Exhausted. Monotonous. You made her like that. This is your fault.
You keep walking, taking the stairs one by one, slowly.
"Callie!"
You step into the bathroom and close the door behind you and slide down the wall, bringing your knees up to your chest and gripping your hair in your hands. You just need to think, why can't you think?
Think think think.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone that Stef hasn't had a chance to take and you scroll down the music and press play, sitting it next to you and closing your eyes.
'Again I let jealousy blind me today, my oldest friend and I blew her away. Just a few kind words and all I could say was I've known you what ten years, it feels like a day'
Laura Marling is your go to music when you are feeling sad. You don't understand why that is, considering all of her music is deep and sorrowful and has the ability to hurt you even more. But she's a lyrical goddess, and she's honest about life and you wonder if it's possible to have such a deep connection with someone you've never met.
You listen to the music rise and fall, her voice low and meaningful and you let the melody wrap itself over your wounds, making them hurt more but somehow temporarily heal.
You stand up and you stand in front of the mirror and sing the lyrics along with her.
"And, oh, watched her cry, torn apart at the hands of a child and again I used arrogance as something to depend and condemned all religion to pitiless end."
You are crying and you don't quite understand why. Probably, maybe, because there is a woman in this house who is willing, who has made it clear that she is ready, to be there for you and help you heal and all you can do is tell her no. It even hurts you, because you do want her to help, you do. But you also know that it's impossible, absolutely impossible. You always get so far and give up and you don't know what it is that makes you do that. You let her in half way and then you push her right back out again and your heart breaks when she feels sad but you can't stop it.
"Oh, so many died; torn apart at the hands of a child."
You can count with one hand the nice things people have said about you since you became a foster kid.
You're not disposable, Callie. You're not worthless.
You would need a thousand hands to count the bad.
'You seduced my sun, you slut.'
'Unfixable'
'Lost cause'
'Runt'
'Ugly'
'Hopeless'
'Worthless'
'Useless'
Less, Less, Less. You're less than the person you should have been. You're less than what people wanted you to be. You continue to be less and less and less.
There is one good thing that sticks in your head. There are a million bad. How is it possible to believe in the good when the rest of the world is against you?
It's okay, anyway. You'll be out of this house in the morning judging by Stefs voice before you walked away.
Your phone beeps and you pick it up. There's a text from Lena.
We're on your side. Don't forget that.
Lena x
You sit it down with shaking hands and turn on the shower before stripping down and standing under the harsh spray. You turn the heat up until it is hot enough to burn your skin.
And you cry.
Again.
You had cried last night and you thought you had let it all out but it seems that there are always more tears in your for Lena and Stef and that isn't fair because you don't want to cry over them. You don't want to cry over anyone.
The song changes and you don't pay much attention but you can hear it muffled in the corner of the room, your thrown sitting under your jeans.
'Don't cry child, you've got so much more to live for. Don't cry child, you've got something I would die for and if it comes to the rain, just be glad you'll smile again. So many don't and so many go unnamed.'
It makes you cry more.
It makes you feel guilty.
'oh, my mother. Oh, my friends asked the angels will I ever see heaven again?'
You punch the wall in front of you with such force that you see blood on your knuckles and it seems to throw sense back into your system. You jump out of the shower and turn off the water and notice that there are red blotches from scrubbing all over your skin. You turn off the music and wrap yourself in a towel before sitting on the edge of the bath.
The word heaven annoys you. You aren't religious, you don't believe in an afterlife. Jude always asks you Where do you think mom is? And you never have an answer because you can't tell him that she's gone. Completely.
It feels like you left a long time ago, too.
You throw on some jeans and a shirt and clean up your hand before leaving the bathroom and wandering down to the living room, where Stef is flicking through TV channels.
You sit down next to her.
"Sorry." Is all you manage to say. She looks at you briefly and turns off the TV and her face is still stern and emotionless, but she shuffles closer to you and looks directly into your eyes.
For a moment, you think she is going to tell you it's time to pack up. You think she is going to tell you that she can't do it anymore. But then there are tears in her eyes and she frowns and wipes them away quickly and it takes you by surprise. Be stoic, Stef. Shout at me, Stef. Don't be sad, Stef.
"I shouldn't have said that," she mumbles. "I shouldn't have said that you are hurting Jude. I shouldn't have. You do everything for that boy, Callie. I just wish that you could do more for you. I don't like this…I hate seeing you this withdrawn and you were doing so well before, when you told Lena and I about Liam and when you let us comfort you and I just don't understand what has changed."
What has changed? Because she's right. You were finding it so much easier to be here for a while and now it's just gone downhill and you don't really understand what makes now different than before.
"I don't know."
Stef puts her arm around your shoulder. "Do you feel sad?"
You shake your head.
"Sick?"
You sigh.
"Talk to me. Please."
"I'm just tired."
She pulls you into a hug and your rest your head against her chest, like you used to with your mom when you were a kid. If you weren't so defeated, you'd be walking away by now. But you need it. Even if it's just for tonight.
You fall asleep.
