Author's Note: Dedicated, as always, to my beautiful Kristina (ms antrop). (Insert heart emojis here)
Chapter Five
"Why the hell would ya make Lorna go to school today, dad? Seriously? What the hell's wrong with ya?" Franny yelled, holding her toddler son on one hip while using her other hand to stir the sauce that boiled in the pot on the stove. Anger was clearly evident in her voice; she turned her head to glare darkly at Mr. Morello.
The infuriated middle-aged father slammed his hands loudly on the counter. He grabbed a knife from the cabinet and gripped it tightly in his hands. His eyes peered menacingly into his oldest daughter's. "Don't you fucking talk to me like that, Francine. You little fucker. You want to be kicked outta this house, little girl?"
Lorna froze in her spot, eyes widened as she watched things unfold. Her legs tremored beneath her, she shut her eyes tightly and hoped to God that her father wasn't planning on using that knife to hurt Franny.
Shaking her head in disbelief, the tall brunette turned off the stove and grabbed her own knife from the counter. She turned to face her father. It broke her heart tremendously to know how much their father changed. Ever since Stansie Morello was diagnosed with the cancer, their father turned into an abusive drunk. She loathed what he had become; felt disgusted to have such a cruel man for a father.
"Put the knife down," she demanded, tightening her hold on the one in her hand. The rage was building inside of her. "You kick me out, Lorna comes with me. I ain't letting her stay here alone with you."
"Excuse you? This is my fucking house; you don't tell me what to do. I'll put my knife down when you stop running your goddamn mouth and put yours down. You sure as hell are not bringing Lorna with ya when I kick ya out; she's fourteen years old and will be living under my roof until I say so," he yelled back, walking closer to the young adult.
It was almost too much to bear. Lorna couldn't take watch the interaction between them any longer. She ran up behind Franny with frantic eyes, heart pounding fiercely in her chest. "Stop it, stop it!" Tears welled up in her eyes, she couldn't allow this to happen—it was enough that they lost their mother, she didn't want to lose her sister too.
Franny felt her heart sink when she caught sight of her younger sister; her blue eyes peered compassionately over at her. "Go upstairs, baby. I'll be up in a minute, okay?"
She shut and locked the door to her bedroom, crouching down on the wooden floor and bringing her knees up to her chest. Their whole life went up in smoke the minute Stansie was diagnosed with the cancer, she realized. Nothing was ever the same since that god-awful day. Her father took to alcohol and physically abusing she and her sister. Mikey had enrolled in the army just after his eighteenth birthday, unaware of what was going on at home other than being there for their mother's passing.
There was a knock on her door, but she was too deep into her anxiety and fear to budge. She squeezed her eyes shut as if to make the situation magically better—yet all that did was cause her to have visions of her mother's glassy gaze. The sight only worsened her anxiety. Her breathing grew heavier and faster; she felt like she had run a marathon and wasn't able to catch her breath.
"Lorna, hon, it's just me. Please open the door," Franny gently called out on the other side of it.
She heard a faint amount of what the other said, however, most of it was muffled by her heart pounding in her chest and thoughts racing through her mind. That made it merely impossible for her to respond yet alone stand up to open the door.
The older brunette couldn't wait a second longer; she hurried into the bathroom to grab a thin pair of scissors and used the sharp edge to pick the lock of the bedroom door. Once the door opened, Franny cautiously entered and felt her heart ache to see the state her sister was in. She crouched down on the ground beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"Take a deep breath, Lorn. You're okay," she soothed, acting quickly by pulling her sister into a gentle embrace. She had no idea what to do or how to help; she didn't think much about it just let her sisterly instincts take over. "You're okay; I've got ya, hon."
"Franny, I-I don't know what-what's wrong with me…I feel like-like I can't breathe."
Pulling her closer, Franny gave a comforting pat to her back and motherly kiss to the top of her head. "It's okay; I think you're just having a panic attack. It'll be okay, Lorn."
Lorna shook her head. Nothing would ever be okay again. Their family was falling apart, and they could both end up dead at the hands of their own father. It was not going to be okay, she thought to herself. "Nothing is okay, Fran. Nothing."
"That's not true. I promise you everything is gonna be okay; I won't let dad hurt you anymore, you and I are gonna move out. You'll live with me because I will not let ya stay here with that monster. Just try to breathe, sweetheart. We'll get through this."
Getting through this was something that certainly didn't seem to be happening. Things only got worse both at home and at school for Lorna Morello. Her father refused to let her leave with Franny, threatened to call the cops on her for kidnapping the brunette teen. She continuously was picked on in school by her classmate, who's name she found out to be Annalisa Damiva. And the anxiety kept worsening; she hardly went a day without at least one panic attack. Mr. Morello refused to do anything about it, completely against getting the prescription filled for the anti-anxiety medicine she was given.
She only wore long sleeved clothing to school these days. All the bruises that battered her body had to be hidden. She had no time for any other stresses in her life. Each day made it just slightly more difficult for Lorna to push herself out of bed. Today, however, she didn't have to force herself out of bed—Mr. Morello beat her to it.
The door of her bedroom swung open with a loud squeak that quickly brought Lorna out of her slumber. Her heartrate rose dramatically; she cautiously peeped her head out from the blanket to catch her father drunkenly walking nearer her. She pulled the cover up to hide her face, wishing there were a way to escape without being noticed. She swallowed thickly, flinching when she heard things being thrown around her room.
"Fucking shit, you act like you don't gotta clean up after yourself! Get the hell up, Lorna, and get yer damn clothes on. You'll walk to school today, ya can use the exercise anyway."
By the time she made it inside of the building, it was already half past eight in the morning. Her hair dripped from the rain pouring harshly on her as she made the thirty-minute walk from her house. She quicky went to her locker to take out her books and ran down the hall to her first class. The second she walked into the classroom; she knew it was going to be a shitty day. All eyes were immediately on her. She swallowed uncomfortably while taking a seat at her desk.
The teacher stopped her lecture to lower her glasses and stare over at Lorna. "Nice of you to decide to join us, Miss Morello. That's the second time this week you've been late to my class—do you want to fail?" She shook her head with a disapproving sigh. It was students like Lorna who frustrated her to no end.
Lorna felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. She could hear some snickering from classmates but did her best to ignore it. An anxious pang sat in her chest as she opened her notebook to start writing what was on the board. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over head to try and drown out the laughter and voices around her.
"Put the hood down, Lorna. You are on very thin ice. You're this close to getting a detention," the teacher informed her, gesturing with her thumb and pointer finger to prove her point.
With a quiet sigh, the petite brunette reluctantly complied with the request and pushed the hood back down. She could still hear faint snickering but chose to focus on her notes instead. The last thing she wanted was to draw anymore attention to herself by reacting to the laughs. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, however, writing in her notebook kept her mind focused.
Focusing back on the lesson at hand, the teacher placed the next sheet onto the projector board. She grabbed her pointing stick and used it to emphasize what was being projected on the chalkboard. "The rest of this week we will be focusing on the science behind cancer—who can tell me what cancer is?"
Annalisa looked menacingly over at Lorna as she waved her hand in the air. "Well, Mrs. Bell, as we already know thanks to me cancer is when cells divide uncontrollably. Ya know since Lorna don't pay attention and shit."
"Yes, that's the definition but what is cancer? And don't swear in my class, Lisa. I will not hesitate to write you up."
"Cancer is a death sentence," the blonde retorted back with an irritated roll of her eyes.
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Lorna tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere. She refused to give into the anxiety and end up with another panic attack. She didn't want to become known as the crazy girl or mental. But just hearing other people bring up the word cancer triggered all of her emotions to come back to the surface. It didn't matter how hard she tried to fight against them; they always came out on top.
Cancer was a death sentence, Lorna silently agreed. From the moment she was told of her mother's grim diagnoses, the whole family knew death was only around the corner. Cancer was evil and cruel and discriminated against no one. Cancer killed ruthlessly and got away with it. It was a sick, mean, and family ruining disease. A word that Lorna thought should be banned from all languages. Cancer stole her only best friend; her one person that loved her unconditionally from the moment she was born, her mother. And for that, Lorna would never forgive cancer.
"You seem awfully quiet over there, Lorna. Care to share what you think cancer is?"
Lorna immediately felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She gulped distastefully and lifted her head gradually to stare up at who questioned her. Of course, it happened to be Annalisa. The one classmate who just endlessly enjoyed making her miserable. She swallowed hard. Her hands were damp with sweat. "I, uh, I um…I think cancer is-is evil." Was the meek response she barely was able to muster up in a voice not much louder than a whisper. She bit the inside of her mouth and focused back down on her notes.
The blonde teenager snickered loudly; her eyes glaring over at her with darkness hidden inside. "Oh yeah? Ya know what else is evil? Having your face out in public—ya so ugly you could kill someone just by lookin' at em'."
Mrs. Bell slammed the pointer on her desk and put her hands irritatingly over her hips. She couldn't stand high school drama; it was petty and pointless. It made her question why she became a high school teacher in the first place. "That's enough, Annalisa. This is science class, not let's be a bitch to everyone class. Make another goddamn peep in my classroom and I'll make sure ya repeat the ninth grade."