A/N: Sorry I've been gone for so long! We just moved, so things have been hectic! But I'm back now, and I should be updating more regularly. Thank you so much to all of my reviewers. I'm a little overwhelmed by how many I've gotten. I'm glad you all like the story, and I hope this chapter is no exception. This is just a short chapter to get me writing again. The next chapter will be her dad's funeral, and it will be longer, promise!
Enjoy!
Ellie was laying in her room, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know how long she had been there. All she knew was that she never wanted to leave. She wanted the floor to swallow her, to take her away from all of her pain. She couldn't get her mind to stop reliving the last few days. The phone call, the conversation with her mother, the funeral arrangements, the realization that she would never see her dad again, it was all too much.
**Flashback**
"Mom, there's been an accident. It's Dad…"
Her mom rolled over on the couch to stare at her daughter's face. "What are you talking about, Ellie? Leave me alone!" she spat.
"No! Mom, listen to me! Dad's gone. He's, he's not coming home." She choked on the words, barely able to get them out.
"How dare you make up such a story!" The small glimmer of hope that Ellie had for support or compassion from her mother, faded before her eyes. "I won't stand for lies in this house," she screamed.
Ellie was unphased. She was hurting too much already. "He's dead mom," she cried. "He's gone!" Ellie sank to the floor and sobbed. Her mother stared at her, disbelievingly, and then, as acceptance spread across her face, she left her daughter to cry while she fixed herself another drink. Ellie had never before felt so completely alone.
**End Flashback**
Her mother had gotten through the funeral arrangements by drinking constantly. Ellie had gotten through it all by cutting. She sighed, and rolled up her shirt sleeve. Cuts of all sizes and in all states of healing littered her arm. She knew her legs looked the same, but she didn't know how else to deal with this. It wasn't just the thought of her father being dead. It was the permanence of the situation. When she thought about NEVER seeing her father again, and ALWAYS being alone with her mother, it felt as if the sky were pushing down on her body while the ground was pushing up. As if she were about to explode from the pressure of everything around her.
She reached to her nightstand and grabbed her razor blade. She didn't even hesitate as she pressed it against her skin and pulled back, watching the blood bubble to the surface and then run down her arm. This was her release. This was the only thing that could relieve the pressure she felt. Instantly, she felt lighter. Her body was numb, blocking out the pain, if only for a short while.