I was awoken harshly to the feeling of absolute nauseousness. My stomach cramped with a need for food but also decided to refuse anything within it. I felt my mouth salivating, leading to the only resolution.

I jumped out of bed and sprinted to my bathroom, traveling to my toilet just in time to hurl up anything I had inside of me, which by the way was nothing.

Acid traveled up through my throat and into my mouth before I allowed it into the toilet. It sounded disgusting as it passed through me into the bowl, some of it slashing onto my face. Gross.

The disgusting bile stung my throat badly and my stomach hurt from cramping. Suddenly my mind thought of mom again, how she would comfort me when I got sick and made her delicious homemade chicken soup. I realized that it wasn't a dream and she was most likely dead. I felt another wave of tears overcome me, and nothing I could do would hold them back.

I sat on the floor calming myself down, my heart ached badly.

Eventually I got up to flush the toilet and brushing my teeth, I made my way down the stairs to the kitchen to look for something- anything. I opened the fridge which lead me to the one and only Narnia of food. The never ending piles of leftovers, uncooked food, and beverages piled up allowing everything for the eye too see.

I stepped back in pure intimidation of the food. Never in my life had I seen so much of it. I mean what could you possibly need so much food for.

Eventually I settled on a bowl of cereal. The sugary kind that makes you want to cry from the nostalgia it gave you.

I poured it into a big mug, dumped some milk in, and started eating it. It was disgusting but good.

I sat at the counter, legs folded under myself to keep my feet warm while eating the pile of sugar drenched in milk.

Simply lost in thought, I remembered when I awoke last night- or this morning, around 2 am. I had a dream.. of mom. She had taken me, as a child, out to go play at the playground late at night when no one was around. Her beauty magnificently glowed in the dark, lighting the night around her, including me. But as we arrived at the park she let go of my hand and kept walking, the illumination around her growing darker. My body didn't allow me to run after her, to stop her, to tell her not to continue off the bridge. The fucking bridge. Had It not been there she wouldn't have been able to die there.

She turned around, regret and sadness clear in her eyes. And she walked off.

The clock across the room read 7:49 am. I suppose that's what happens when you sleep for 17 hours. My eyes burned from pure dehydration after crying so much, especially after the dream. And I don't think I would be able to feel any better anytime soon.

I don't really feel like conversing with anyone today though.. yesterday was... embarrassing? I don't know.

After I finished my cereal, I lead myself back to my bedroom and sat on my bed.

Mom...

What if.. what if someone found her before she died? What if she wasn't actually dead? Maybe dad found her before she really passed..? Maybe? No. It hurts but... she's dead.. I have to accept it.

Fuck it hurts.

So much.

****

A quiet knock sounded at my door, softly waking me from my sleep again. Thankful for the quietness of their knock, I decided to be polite for the first time in my life and open the door for said person.

On the other side stood Brandon and Lucas I believe? Lucas stood taller than Brandon by about 3 inches.

I looked up at them, my eyes felt dry.

"Hey, Avery!" Brandon smiled warmly. It was a genuine smile, and even though I've been all but nice to him, he still managed to be kind to me. I felt really guilty about it. A heavy weight set itself on my shoulders, adding on the the weight on my chest.

I didn't respond and merely nodded a bit.

"Wanna come hang out downstairs with us? Everyone's going to chill there. I know you haven't really gotten to know anybody, so we can start today I guess!" He cheered happily. He must be the light of the house with this enthusiasm. But I wasn't feeling it. Nothing felt right and I more or less just wanted to waste away in my bed.

I looked at Lucas who had just been standing there staring at me like he was trying to memorize every detail in my face. I looked away trying to avoid the thought of him judging how ugly I was.

I nodded back at Brandon and he smiled even bigger, if really possible.

Before I had a chance to say anything, he grabbed my hand and dragged me downstairs with Lucas following directly behind us.

As we headed down the stairs that lead directly to the lounging room where everyone else had been sitting, I lost track in my stepping pattern on a step and started falling forward.

I felt my upper body lean but soon a really warm hand wrapped around me. Brandon hadn't realized I had almost fallen and when he felt my hand jerk back, he turned around in shock.

Lucas had wrapped one of his hands around my chest and the other clutched tightly onto the waistband of the back of my pants, which resulted in him pulling my sweatpants far enough to form a visible gap of my boxers. I swear I could almost feel him staring down at my ass.

I felt my face burst with heat, reaching from my ears to my neck with embarrassment. Everyone had been staring at us on the stairs from the floor below. I turned around to see what was happening with Lucas but a harsh violent banging came from the front door.

I whipped my head back around to see who it was, they obviously wanted in, and soon.

Aaron looked back at everyone as if telling them to stay put, then headed to the doorway. Of which was just out of sight from the room.

Sounds of conversation echoed through the quiet house, a man was at the door. Soon it turned into an argument, followed by sounds of struggling.

Aaron started yelling at the man telling him to leave and threatening him, but he pushed through Aaron's defensives and walked straight into the lounging room.

Lucas had moved to where he was now holding my waist instead of my pants, he was basically hugging me.

But when the man came around the corner I felt my face change colours yet again. Only to white. Pale white.

"Happy birthday, Little Bitch," Dad smiled. Not a kind, wishing you well smile. Not a happy birthday smile. A 'You'll wish you'll be dead soon' smile.