"Bella! Stop!" her voice calls after me as I run upstairs. I don't stop, I don't look back. I can't.
I finally found the inner-strength to slam the front door in her face, but I didn't lock it. My first mistake.
I can't listen to her. My throat feels like it's closing, I can't take a deep breath. I think I'm going to hyperventilate.
I feel sick.
I want to know why she's here, but I don't want to talk to her. I can't find the words, my mind reeling, it's all too fast and I can't focus.
She follows me, her light footsteps echoing loudly in my ears.
Spinning to face her as soon as I'm in my room, I feel cornered like an animal.
She huffs lightly, large weekend bag still over her shoulder.
"Get out," I seethe, my teeth clenched tight.
She almost looks hurt by my words. I'm glad.
"Just … listen to me, please?" she begs. "Let's go downstairs and talk like adults."
I shake my head manically. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you!"
"You don't mean that," she sighs.
I do. I really fucking do.
I don't want to cry, but I can't help it.
Mom represents every one of my demons. She's the source, and I don't even think she realises that. She's so dense —always has been, never thinking of anyone but herself. She's selfishness personified.
"Please leave," I try again, my hard exterior faltering.
"I've missed you, sweetheart."
Her words make me blanch. They hurt.
"I came back to see you, see how you're doing," she continues. I can't look at her. I can't breathe. "You've grown into such a beautiful young woman, you're so perfect. We should go out for dinner, catch up. When will your dad be home—"
"Get out!" I don't know how I manage to shout, my own voice sounding foreign to my ears. Her eyes widen a little, her face shocked for a second.
Her soft expression melts away, consumed by the hardness I remember -the coldness. Her eyes, so like my own, blink back at me, but she doesn't move.
"Fine," I spit, grabbing my cell phone. "I'll leave."
She grabs my arm as I pass, but I manage to shrug out of her grip and run down the stairs, not even grabbing a coat before I run in the direction of Edward.
A/N
Thanks for reading and all your get well wishes!
