Chapter Text
The sound of high pitched ringing, nurses and doctors rushing inside. However it was too late, there was no hope. My dad was flat lining, and there was nothing I could do about it. My world was falling apart, yet all I could do was stand there and accept it. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore, because everything I had holding me together just got taken away from me in front of my eyes.
“Miss, you need to leave.”
A nurse directed to me in an urgent voice, she had short choppy brown hair, but her eyes were covered with her big bulky round glasses. I was furious—they wanted me to leave the room? My dad was dying, and they expected me to leave?
“No- no I can’t! That’s my dad! I can’t lose him, I can’t! Dad- please!-“
I yelled out, completely shoving the nurse out of my way, startling everybody in the room. I tumbled forward and raced toward my fathers hospital bed, my arms reaching out toward him before I dropped to my knees, gently holding his cold hand that was hanging off of the bed. I wished I could give him life, as the man that gave me life was dying right before my eyes.
Tears streamed down my face, while I stuffed my face in the hospital bed as I sobbed heavily, meanwhile nurses continuously tried to pull me away from the hospital bed but I didn’t budge despite the long haunting noise of my father flatlining
My world became foggy, and everything around me such as the nurses trying to pull me away, and the way my arms flailed around trying to push them off of me was all in slow motion to me. But unexpectedly, darkness surrounded my vision.
THUD!
And before I knew it, I was unconscious.
My dad was dead, and there was nothing I could do about it.
5:43PM, 3 hours later.
Chapter 1.
My eyes fluttered open, and I was suddenly met with the sight of a wooden door in front of me. As my eyes wandered around the room, I finally realized where I was at. My mom laid back in one of the chairs by the wall, one of her legs bouncing up and down on the ground as she scrolled on her phone calmly.
She had her messy brown hair tied up in a messy bun, but you couldn’t even tell it was a bun due to how much hair was all over the place. If you asked her when the last time she showered was, she couldn’t tell you. My mom had always been a deadbeat with those lifeless brown eyes, not even a care in the world behind them. Samantha Moore, the “best” mother in the world.
Guessing she noticed I was looking at her, because one blink and now she was staring right back at me with her prolonged eerie gaze. Her smeared eyeliner didn’t give it the best look either.
“What happened?..”
I asked wearily, trying to brush off the throbbing headache I had at that moment, and despite how heavy my eyes felt I still managed to keep them open.
My mother just let out an angry scoff as she clearly showed annoyance, sitting back in her chair roughly as she shook her head.
“You, that’s what happened. You better be lucky we have insurance, because I was about to make you pay for every hospital visit.”
She coldly spoke, shooting daggers directly at me as I laid there in pain. I slowly looked over to the front of me, now staring back at that wooden door.
“Did I pass out?”
I asked, my voice cracking and groggy from how tired I was. The pain tagging along with that didn’t feel great, and all I wanted to do was just go to sleep and maybe never wake up again. It was clear she didn’t care, and I know she’d abandon me if it wasn’t a felony.
Samantha turned back toward her phone and continued to scroll through it as she clicked her tongue and shook her head once more. I never understood why she’d do that, and she couldn’t just answer my question.
“Yes, you passed out. And because you passed out, it costs me to stay here longer, Phoebe.”
Samantha spoke once more, not bothering to look up from her phone. Her voice was drawn out and had a hint of anger. And at this point I’m not even surprised, nothing she does impresses me.
Soon, a doctor entered the room. I slowly looked back over toward the door he walked in, my mother now quieter than a mouse. He shut the door gently behind him and held his clipboard up to his chest. He had curly ginger hair and green eyes, his white coat dropping down to his ankles as he stepped toward the counter near the door, setting his clipboard down and walking near his diagnostic station as he reached for the blood pressure cuff, unrolling it with a swift motion before walking toward me.
“Hello there, I’m Dr. Hudson. Do you mind if I take your blood pressure?”
Dr. Hudson asked kindly, and in response I nodded my head.
“Great.”
He replied, leaning forward and gently picking up my arm before wrapping the cuff snugly around my arm, his practiced hands securing the velcro tightly before inflating it, looking at the small sphygmomanometer.
The pressure was then released, and he gently undid the velcro before walking back toward the diagnostic station, hooking the cuff back up.
“125/78, you seem to be okay.”
He added before writing something down on his clipboard, and I slightly looked back over to my mother before peering back at the doctor.
Dr. Hudson gently grabbed his clipboard and stepped toward the door, however his gaze was on me.
“Your blood pressure is back to normal, but let’s keep an eye on it. Make sure that when you get home you get plenty of rest and drink plenty of water. I will come back once you guys can go.”
He spoke subtly, a small smile forming on his face before opening the door and leaving the room once more.
I slowly sat up from the hospital bed cautiously raising myself up to avoid hurting myself accidentally. Once I was fully up, I let out a sigh and laid my hands in my lap. And that’s when it hit me.
My father, is he alright? Did they save him? What happened?
My head quickly shot towards my mother, my eyes wide with concern and fear as I began to ask the question, but she didn’t waste any breath. As if she read my mind.
“He’s dead. They could’ve saved him, but your little tantrum killed him. I didn’t wanna go through the trouble of taking care of that man anyway.” She spoke coldly again, not even bothering to look up from her phone.
“So I guess you did me a favor.”
My heart shattered, and I felt it drop to my stomach. That sinking feeling made tears fill my eyes, and I felt everything go numb. A smirk soon followed into my mothers face as she let out a chuckle, not even an ounce of sympathy in her reaction.
“Do you understand the amount of physical therapy he would need? The money, and the time? That car crash was almost fatal because he was stupid enough to fall asleep at the wheel.”
“Nicholas has always put on an act in front of you, just to play the perfect father role.”
She raised her voice, turning off her phone and placing it in her lap. Now she was looking directly at me. I was speechless, was it really my fault? Am I the one that caused him to flatline?
“N-no-“ I stuttered out, feeling a lump in my throat as tears flooded my eyes.
“He- he was fine before he left the house.. how- how did he suddenly fall asleep!?”
I yelled out with pure rage, and now I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I began to sob. There was no way he died like that, he seemed so happy before he left.
Everything is a mess, snot is running out of my nose and tears are continuing to flow out of my eyes as I take deep breaths, my tears and snot falling onto the thin hospital sheet.
My mother was enraged as she saw me cry, she quickly stood up and threw her phone down onto the chair by the wall before stomping toward me and grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at her, her other hand raised up as she was intensely pointing at me.
“Don’t you dare cry, not another damn drop. I didn’t raise a thirteen year old to act like a baby, clean up your face.”
My mother yelled, as I couldn’t look away from her. Catching a closer glimpse of her smeared eyeliner and rigid face through my watery eyes. She snatched her hand away from my face and reached over toward the side table beside the hospital bed, before throwing a tissue box into my lap.
My breath remained shaky as I sniffled and reached for a tissue with my unsteady hands, grabbing one and wiping my tears away with it before blowing my nose. During this process, I could hear my mom digging around for something and before I knew it she was right back in front of me with a small handheld mirror, pointed right at me.
“This is how you look, do you wanna make a fool of yourself Phoebe?”
My mother asked, her tone firm as I held the tissue in my hand. My mouth slightly opened, my lip quivering as I looked at myself in the small mirror she shoved in my face, I noticed how messy my short brown hair was, and how the tears made my blue eyes look like glass. My face was red and my freckles looked darker.
My breath hitched as I let out a small sigh, my gaze dropping at myself as I looked back down at my lap.
“No, I don’t.”
I answered with defeat, another sigh escaping my lips as I just sat there. I felt like I was making more of a fool of myself by just saying what she wanted to hear, because that’s the only way to make her shut up. It felt gross to call this woman my mother.
The rest of the time was silent, I tried to contain myself as I stared at my lap. As bad as I wanted to cry, the more I knew I’d make things worse because my mother would just get mad at me again.
I was in the hospital for over a week after that, my mother kept finding excuses to keep me there and insisted I stay and to try and find out what was wrong with me. I felt humiliated by my own mother, if anything she had something wrong with her.
After a while, the doctor came back and discharged us from the hospital. A long awkward ride home with my mother, but I didn’t care. There was nothing I wanted to hear from her, and I’m sure there was nothing she wanted to hear from me. I stared out of the window, gazing at the night sky and the slightly dimmed streets from buzzing street lights.
The whole car ride, my mind was all over the place, unscrambling things and at the same time making guesses. Was I really the cause of my fathers death? Could he really have survived if I had just left the room?
Tears flooded my eyes the more I thought about it, however I had to hold it in so my mother wouldn’t notice it. I’ve dealt with this my whole entire life, I should be used to it but I'm really not. My mother is somebody you would never want as a parent, she was heartless and only cared about herself. A real monster from your nightmares.
My mother has always been like this, I remember my father telling me she acted differently before she had me. He used to tell me she was always happy and motivated to do things, and always had a smile on her face. However all of that faded whenever I came along.
After she had me, she refused to take care of me and instead had my father do all of the work. I know this because all of my memories growing up were only about my father. She turned into this cold person, she absolutely despised everything that had to do with me. And as I grew up, the more comfortable she got in showing me how much she hated me.
Fortunately, my father always stuck by my side and protected me from my mother. I could tell even at a young age that he was starting to lose feelings for her due to her behavior, but he only stayed for me. As I got older, the more I saw how much he tried to love her and talk to her, but she ended up pushing him away. Even growing up, I disliked my mother.
Me and my father always played outside, on hot days and even on cold days. And whenever I got hurt, he always made sure I was still laughing. Despite it being muddy or raining, snowy or storming. He was always my umbrella.
“Phoebe, get my cigarettes out of my purse.”
My mother demanded with a cold tone, staring forward at the road as she drove. Not even bothering to give me a slight glance, though it didn’t surprise me.
I slightly looked away from the window that was keeping me occupied. My eyes leaving the scenery we passed by and left behind as I looked at her and cautiously reached for her purse, which was sitting still on the middle console between our two seats.
“Okay..”
I murmured under my breath as I reached into her purse and fumbled around for her cigarettes, and once I had found them I grabbed them out and attempted to give her the pack.
“What the- are you crazy!?”
My mother spoke suddenly, her tone sounding urgent as she quickly slapped my hand away with the back of hers, her eyes intently paying attention to the road. I clutched onto the packet of cigarettes, because I knew if I had dropped them she would yell at me. I looked up at her with confusion, unsure what she was talking about.
“I can’t light a cigarette while driving, you’re going to have to light one for me.”
She spoke with that cold tone once more, her eyes only drifting to the side to look at me for a mere second before turning back toward the wheel. I stared at her like she was the crazy one, completely baffled as I looked at the pack of cigarettes in the palm of my hand.
“What? But I'll burn myself, I don’t know how to light a cigarette.”
I spoke, fear beginning to fill me as I looked at my mom once more, and then back at the pack of cigarettes. If I didn’t do it, she’d get upset. But if I did it and I did it wrong, she’d get upset anyway.
“Oh whatever, don’t be such a baby Phoebe. Burning yourself only leaves a mark for a while but me loving you leaves a mark forever. I’d rather you get burned.”
My mother spoke with a direct tone, her anger clear in her voice despite how cold it sounded. The more I looked at her the more I could see her clench her jaw. However I was still stunned with these words, it was clear that nothing mattered to her. And even though that wasn’t new, it still hurt.
“I- I’m sorry.”
I apologized subtly, my voice slightly breaking. I expected a response though there was nothing. It was silent for a moment before I let out a small sigh, reaching into her purse and finding her purple butane lighter. The road was bumpy and I sat there in the cold leather seat, opening the pack of cigarettes and grabbing a singular one out. I tried to wait just in case my mom were to say anything else, however again no word left her mouth.
As it became time for me to light her cigarette, it became more clear what the outcome could be. The pack laid in my lap and as I held both the cigarette and lighter in my hands the more I realized I couldn’t see what I was doing since it was nighttime.
I looked over toward my mother, noticing her impatiently tapping her finger on the steering wheel as she drove. I bit my lip nervously as I tried to ignite the lighter, my hand sweating from fear as my thumb slipped many times. My eyes darted from my hand to her hand tapping, making it clear she was getting more impatient by the second.
Once my thumb finally ignited the lighter, I pressed down roughly to keep it ignited as my hand shakily moved toward the cigarette sitting delicately in between my fingers. The flame touching the tip of the cigarette as I could see the tobacco burn, I hadn’t messed up just yet.
THUNK!
The feeling of the car bouncing over a speed bump startled me to the point the lighter shifted from the cigarette end toward my thumb in a quick second, letting out a surprised gasp as it burnt my flesh just underneath the bud of my thumb, right on the side near my fingernail.
“Ow!”
I winced, dropping the lighter out in surprise onto the floorboard of the car. However my hand clenched the cigarette tightly as I awaited my mothers fury. But to my surprise she wasn’t as mad as I expected her to be.
She reached over and instead of snatching the cigarette, she grabbed it from my hand gently before bringing it over to her mouth where she let out a subtle sigh.
“Now you know how it feels to get burned, how it feels to be fooled by something beautiful. But the smallest action brings it closer toward something, maybe even you.”
My mother clutched the wheel with a tight grip.
“And when it finally touches that something– it turns into something ugly. And if it were you, it’d hurt. And that’s what makes you wonder why something so beautiful would hurt you.”
My mother spoke calmly, taking a puff of the cigarette before rolling down the window and blowing out the smoke. She coughed a couple of times before rolling the window back up, filling the car up with complete silence once more.
“Your father was a beautiful flame, but he wanted kids and I didn’t. I told him I didn’t want to ruin my body, I told him I didn’t wanna deal with taking care of something that wasn’t the two of us.”
She cleared her throat.
“But he burned me anyway, but once you came along he only paid attention to you. I’ve hated you since the day you came out of me. You only fused his flame to grow stronger and burn me more.
“Now it’s your turn to get burned.”
She spoke, as if her soul was no longer there. As if she had no personality, no feelings, and no thought. That’s how cold her words were, and they struck me like icebergs. I sat in silence in the passenger seat, my head hung low- my gaze fixated on my lap.
“I’m sorry.”
I muttered out, feeling like a complete idiot for even apologizing for that. But I had no other words, no matter what I said she would only brush them off.
My mother let out another prolonged sigh, before taking a puff of her cigarette once more. This time, she didn’t roll the window down to blow the smoke out.
“You ruined me, Phoebe.”
As if her heart was made of stone, she spoke however she wanted toward me. Not a thought behind the words that made me feel like a burden, the words that made me feel worthless.
For a second, I sat there in utter disbelief. But I don’t know why I was so shocked, this was something I should’ve expected. As tears filled my eyes, I held myself together for just one more word.
“I know.”
I replied somberly, biting my tongue as I tightly squeezed my burnt thumb in my hand.
“I’m sorry.”
END OF CHAPTER 1