CHAPTER SONG - Color's, Halsey

My mom stood in front of me, still in her scrubs and gaping at me. I wiped my palms down my jeans, trying to get rid of the built-up sweat. But seeing her reaction, I learned I was right. She in fact did not know about my dad being back in town. And I have just dumped the news onto her. Gee, this is nice.

I lifted my gaze up at her for the fourth time, and it only made me wince, again. She was still standing there, staring at me like I just told her I was joining the circus or something. Honestly, her reaction would probably be less shocked if I told her that instead. Clearing my dry throat, I looked down at the dinner plate in front of me, my appetite gone. Which was upsetting in itself because that pasta looked delicious and took some time to make.

The heat in my hands brought my attention back to them, and I whipped them, again. Finally, building enough courage, I looked up at her again. "Mom?" I called, softly and hoping to not make the situation any more traumatizing. But if I'm being honest with myself, this was hard enough. I shouldn't be the one dealing with this. I shouldn't have to be the buffer between my own parents. I was no moderator, and I sure didn't want to be.

I like to hide from problems, not be right in the middle. I was their child, and not their pacificator. They put me here. I know I wasn't really a child, according to the law anyways but I was still a child. Their child. Not a dang toy to tug back and forth for their own benefits. And that's exactly what I feel like right now.

The shock on my mom's face seemed to fade once I called her, and her next expression wasn't any better. She scowled at me. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she asked, raising her voice at me, "I would have never let you meet with him."

Let me?

Her hand flew up into the air as she started yelling, "This is irresponsible of you, Lina. I raised you better than that, and you should have not gone. He left. Without a single explanation, or warning, he walked out, and you did what?" she faced me, narrowing her tanned eyes at me, "You went to see the man. The lying cheat, you let him back into your life. To what? Lie to you?"

Words trembled out of my mouth, "His my dad."

"It doesn't matter! You should have told me."

I swallowed, coiling into my seat to the point that my chin was tucked into my chest, and I could barely move. She didn't usually yell at me. Heck, the last time she yelled at me I had to be like six. I was not the child that got yelled at, I was the good one. Now, I was eighteen, and for the past year and a half have pretty much lived on my own. That more than qualifies me to be moved out of an age where she is allowed to yell at me. I'm an adult, not a child who needs to ask for permission. This isn't some custody battle either.

I watched her sit down across from me. Her chair scraping the ground loudly, making me wince more, and making me feel like I stole a cookie out the jar, or something. She reached across the table and grabbing my hand and all I wanted to do was pull away. So badly, I wanted to just put space between us. I didn't, and she sighed. "Lina, why didn't you talk to me before going?" she asked, hurting filling her gaze. But that's not fair, is it?

I regarded her, trying to find my words that felt so far back right now. Ask her? When? On all the day's she came home late, and left early? All the time she spent avoiding me like I was the plague, and not her daughter.

The word's ask her, burned in my mind so badly that I just wanted to peel out of my own skin. Why would I ask when I have the right to see my dad. He might be her cheating ex-husband, but he was my dad regardless. Ask her? Like I was the child she's been loving, and taking care of for the past year? Because shocker, she hasn't.

I stared at my hand for another second, and then did something that I knew was right for me, I pulled away. I made a decision that I knew would only help me, and I pulled away from my mom. Leaning back in the seat, I gulped down air that lacked, and watched her eyes widened at my action for a second. She didn't expect it, neither did I. I never thought about myself much, and she knew that too.

She leaned back in her seat too. "Lina, it hurts me to know you did this without considering me."

Her words did something to me. Snapped something in my mind that felt like a flow of liquid lava pouring through my veins. I didn't expect the words to leave my mouth, and I blame it on the lack of air I had. "Consider you? You? Ask you? What about me? When was the last time I saw you? Not just saw, but even talked for that matter. You don't call, you don't even check in. Give me a reason I should have asked you, because asking you means you are apart of my life, and the last time I checked in order for someone to be apart of your life, they have to be there. You walked out a long time ago, so tell mom, why should I ask you?"

Silence slammed into the room hard, and tension seeped in, taking a seat at the table and kicking it feet up. I swear I can even hear its laugher, and all I found myself doing was starting at the woman who was my mom but wasn't. The one that birthed me, and loved me, and then left me.

I didn't mean to say all that, but for so long I have held onto those thoughts. They sat in the back of my mind, and at the tip of my tongue and I never let myself think about it for a second to release them. She was my mom, yes, but she left me too. They both did. And I was alone. Without anyone to lean on, without anyone to help me get through it. I did that, all by myself. I dragged myself through their mess, and I picked myself up over and over.

Now, she wants me to ask for permission.

I lost not only my dad, but my mom. I loved her to pieces, and I still do but lately she's been more like a roommate that comes and goes. Not a mom, and definitely not a family member. A mom would have been there for me, cared and loved me through the hurt I felt when dad walked out. And I know I'm old enough to care for myself, but she was my mom. I needed my mom. I needed her. I needed someone.

I felt torn, broken down and losing myself slowly and she wasn't there to help me. I know she was hurt, I know, and I understand but she forgot me. She left me. She was supposed to take care of me because all though I'm of age to be considered an adult, I wasn't! I wasn't an adult then, I was a child, their child. A child who lost the only two people in her lives that were everything to her.

In a single second, in the blink of an eye, I lost them. Both of my parents. And after, I was left dealing with it on my own. To heal, alone. I was left by myself, and without help, support, or comfort. And I needed that! I needed it all, and I didn't have it. But I did it. I got back up and healed myself. Maybe not fully, but I'm doing okay. I became the adult they forced me to be.

Asking her for permission would have been pointless because the chose was mine. It was always mine. It wasn't hers. She had no right for any say in my life anymore. She lost that. It was mine, and only mine. I made it. I did what I thought was right for me. I wanted answered, I needed them. I needed to understand, and I made the choose.

The chose belonged to me.

For the first time, I felt confident in myself as I straighten up in my seat. "I have a boyfriend too." I blurted, even if just wanted to cry, "His name is Mateo, and his great."

She eyed me, hurt shinning her eyes but I dumped more information on her. "Dad met him, and I love him. I really love him, and his been there for me. Not you, not dad, he. A stranger! And his family, they have cared for me more then you have this whole years. What does that say about our messed-up family? That I found more comfort in a stranger, then you all."

I stood off the chair, gaining more confidence. "And it was my choice to meet dad, not yours. I don't need your permission because you left me to be an adult, you left me. You don't get to tell me what I can and cannot do anymore. You gave that right up the day you left me along with dad."

I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew I wasn't staying for another second. I didn't want too, and you know what? I'm think about myself. I'm making a choice only for me and walking out. I rounded that same chair and walked out. I left my mom sitting there, staring at me with tears in her eyes, and I still walked out. But you know what? I have had tears in my eyes for so long that they are basically a consistent now. I'm tired of always being looked at like I'm second. I'm first. Right now, I'm first.

I'm putting me ahead of them because my mental health is more important.

I made my way out the front door, and down the driveway. I still had absolutely no clue where I was heading, but I knew it was far from this dreadful house that felt like it was suffocating me. I almost laughed at the words echoing in my mind, at who's words were sitting there. Honestly, I thought Lily would be the last person on my mind, but here she was, and saying "Weak isn't a word I would use to describe you." She also said to question myself. To question why I see myself as weak.

The truth is, I do see myself as weak. Despite knowing I shouldn't, I see myself as weak because I feel weak. To the core of my bones, I feel broken. Physically, and mentally, I feel unworthy. Since the day of the party, it's built. One situation after the other, I was put in a spot where I was looked at as small, incompetent, and silly. Even the counselor I went too, she looked at me with pity. So much of it that I felt so utterly weak in that second that it broke me further. I started believing I was weak then.

That day, the counselor told me to get through it, and didn't give me a single way how. Just left me to figure it out on my own. And after that, my parents' situation came, and then Tony waltzed in and out creating a bigger mess. Freshman year, in that room, I didn't fight. I was weak. And I feel like that second as been describing me ever sense. I saw myself as powerless in that second, and I believed it. I put it into my mindset and let myself live like that. Does that mean I have to be helpless forever? I shouldn't have too. I have choices, and so many of them.

Everyone around me looks at me like I'm Lina, the tiny weakling but no more. I have made my own choice. I am not longer going to stand by and let this little girl in me cry. No. I am going to be strong. Obviously, it's not going be a whole flip flop thing. I'm not going to do a one eighty, because honestly that's just not possible, and I like who I am, but I plan to improve my mindset.

It's possible for me to wake up every day and feel better. To not let people push me around, and to make choice I want to make. Saying what I want to say and being who I want to be. I'm going to do what I want to do, and not what people around me expect me to do.

The idea of it lightened my chest, by more than I expected. It's hard, and I know it will be harder because I am so used to living in the corner of non-confrontation. But no more. I'm stepping out. The light is going to burn, but so be it. I'll get used to it, right? I'll have too, because I made the choice all on my own.

By the time I was done with my little pep talk, I found myself at a park. In the middle of this late night, and all alone. Somehow, I still wasn't ready to go back, so plopping down I sat on the park bench. Normally, I would run home but right now I had no energy, and truthfully, I didn't want to go back there. For a few seconds, I just wanted to sit here and be.

What else did I want? I wanted to talk to him, to hear his calmingly deep-toned voice. So, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. Putting it to my ear, I sat back and waited. I stared off into the distance, and just sat there because I couldn't even move anymore.

The phone clicked. "Love?"

His voice did something to me, mellowed out a raging noise in my mind and I breathed out in relief. "Hi."

"What's wrong?"

I have no clue how he knew, maybe it was my tone, but he always knew. And when I didn't answer, he spoke up, "How did dinner with your mom go?"

I pulled my leg's up onto the bench and wrapped an arm around them to keep myself steady. Putting my chin on my knee, I sighed. "It went." Was all I managed to come up with.

A second passed by before he spoke again, "So, no beino then." No good.

I didn't know how he managed, but he was able to relax me even more in that second. I felt myself slump into the bench as I replied, "I might have left her in a state of shock, and tears." And even as I said it, I felt myself want to cry too. I know that I didn't want to be there, and I know I made the right choice, but it wasn't easy leaving her like that.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Talk to me, love. What happen?"

I stared out into the empty park. It was well past nine pm, and there wasn't a single soul in sight. Expect my broken one of course. "She didn't like that I went to see my dad. She said that I should have asked her." I explained tiredly.

On his end, a door slammed shut. "Asked her? Exactly when did she expect you to do that?" he asked, anger building in his tone and mirroring my own thoughts," That's ridicules. Your grown, you can do what you want to do, and you don't have to make her feel better about her mistakes. They were hers, not yours."

Tears gathered in my eyes at the truth of that. "That's what I said." I explained, trying to blink away those tears. No matter how many times I said I'm strong, I'll always be an emotion wreak and that's just something I need to work on. I can cry and be strong at the same time.

"You stood up to her, right? You didn't sit there and let her talk to you like that, right?"

I smiled, sadly. "I did. I said some nasty things."

He released a breath. "Nasty or not, she needed to hear it, and I'm proud of you."

I sniffled, wiping away a lone tear that managed to escape and Mateo spoke up again, "Hold on, you said left. Where did you go?" he asked, tension creeping up into his tone.

Still sitting comfortably on the park bench like a hobo, I chuckled. "I took your advice. I didn't expect to ever need it but looks like it came in handy. The park behind the school, by the rock-climbing wall. Thanks, by the way, for this spot." I told him, realizing the irony of this spot. This was one of his escapes advise, and somehow, subconsciously I came here, to escape.

Tension really hung on his tone this time, "Your alone?"

I looked around. "Yeah."

I heard his feet steps, heavy and pounding on the ground. "That's not safe, not even remotely. Do you understand the kind of danger that's out there? Love, why didn't you call me earlier, I would have come to you. Mierda, I'm coming, sit still."

I shook my head, despite him not being able to see me. "No, it's fine. I'm okay."

He didn't slow down, and I heard him start his bike, making me lift my head off my knee. "Mateo, I'm okay, I promise. You don't have to come all the way out here for me." I repeated, and in my mind, I knew that even as the words left my mouth, they were pointless.

He would come, he always does. His consistent like that and no matter what, he came. Day or night, he showed up. His actions were always mirrored to his promises. He said I have him, and he proved it over and over. No matter what, I got him. I loved him for it, more than I could put into words. I loved that I knew without a doubt that I could count on him. On his love, his support, and him. I knew deep down, to the core of my being that he would always come. And that was something I realized that I needed.

The bike roared as he took off. "Don't you move, love, not even an inch. Don't hang up, I'll be there in a few minutes. I don't care that you're okay, I'm still coming. A little bit for you, but purely for myself. I'm a selfish asshole, and this is for my own sanity. If something happens to you, I won't be able to live without myself. The world, my love, would parish in my hands as I hunt for you. My monsters will not allow me to stand by, knowing your alone. If I can have a single second of your time, like the greedy bastard I am, I'll take it. And what's worse is I'll keep taking until your all mine, because again, I'm selfish and I can't stop. I don't want too. So, if it makes you feel any better, I'm doing this for me."

I found myself grinning, and I know that's his doing. But mainly, it's the fact that his trying to make me feel better and coming to me. He always looks for ways to comfort me, but little does he know that just him is enough. "Okay." I whispered, leaning back onto my knees, "Purely for selfish reasons." I spoke.

"Because I'm a selfish bastard, you got it. Always a quick learner."

I chuckled. "Don't call yourself that. Your nothing like that. Your pure, and loving, and selfless."

He didn't respond right away, and all I could hear was the growl of his bike. It took him a long second to answer, and it made me question if he really sees himself as selfish. "I'm none of those, all the opposite really." he replied finally, tone coming out quieter than usual, lacking his usual confidence.

I leaned off my knees, letting my legs drop to the ground. They hit the pavement with a loud thump and vibrated under the pressure. "I disagree." I responded without a beat, "I would disagree by a million. You have singlehandedly shown me what it feels like to want to live again. You did that, you made me want to get off my knees and stand again. Why would you say your none of those? You're all of them, and more. I could fill ten lists with your goodness. You have made me feel far less alone, and more alive in the past few months then I have felt my whole life."

I hear the sharp intake of his breath, and I felt mine fly out slowly. Tears prickled in my eyes as I sat there, on a cold park bench, in nothing but jeans and a shirt, and thought about the man who doesn't see his own pureness. And as he sighed deeply, I knew his words would hurt. "You know one part of me, love, a small and weak part. But I have a whole different side to me, one I pray you never have to meet but it's there. I have a monster under my skin, and he roars with shameless cruelty in my ears. Everything about you is perfect, you are everything I am not. You are all the good, and the kindness mixed in one and you calm my monster. I am cursed beyond universe, but you are my salvation, my grace, my love, and the better part of me."

I shook my head, hating all of his words. I am not his salvation, he was mine. From the second he stepped into my life, I began to live again, and he might think I saved him, but I know the truth and without him I wouldn't be here. I was way too close to giving up, and I'm ashamed to say I was too close to ending it too. "Your wrong." I told him, shaking my head one more time, "Weak? You have never been weak, not from the second I met you. From the second I stepped into your arms; you have built me a whole home for me there. In your arms, pretty boy, is where I'm fully me. How can you say your weak, and still have that much power?"