Without waiting for her reply, I enter my room and close the door with a loud thud. Leaning against the door I rest my head against it and slip off the bag from my hands.
My chest feels tight. Every breath that I draw in brings pain.
I wonder if I’ll ever breathe freely without feeling like theretoo muchin my chest.
In seconds, I can hardly breathe.
Panic attack.Just what I fucking needed.
I make my way to my bed, lie down and stare at the ceiling. I inhale long, deep breaths and then exhale slowly. I repeat it until the weight moves off my chest and oxygen easily flows through me.
The reason comes instantly.
I didn’t want to hurt Mom.
Fuck.
The look of her hurt and horror twist my insides now that I see it play on loop in my head.
Since they’ve come back, my emotions have been all over the place.
There is so much anger and frustration that makes me yell at them, but there’s also sympathy because only we three share the grief that Emery’s death left us.
My heart is filled with resentment, but there is a tiny corner that brightens up at the sight of them.
I’m not supposed to feel this way.
I can’t help it, though.
No one’s ever wait up for me. They didn’t sit in the living room wishing that I came home.
I run my fingers through my hair, feeling so conflicted.
With a sigh, I roll over to my side and retrieve my phone from my pocket. Quickly, I pull up my conversation with Rose and see that she still hasn’t replied to my last message.
I’m about to send a message to her when a knock raps on my door.
I stiffen for a moment before pulling myself up and making it to the door.
Dad stands on the other side, holding a tray with dinner: a plate of stir fry and rice.
He thrusts it in my direction. “Eat it.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He stares blankly. “Don’t you think you’ve upset your mother enough for tonight?”
I hate the guilt that stirs inside of me. “I only spoke the truth.”
“Which is you hate us.”
“Yes, and I want you gone.”
“I told you. We’ve permanently moved back so remove the idea from your head that we’re leaving.”
I smile in mock. “You will leave soon.”
Dad looks done with me. “We will not.” He presses the tray into my chest. “Eat it.”
