2 Years Ago

The worst thing about falling to pieces is that humans can do it so quietly.

-r.i.d (inkskinned)-

"Mom!" I called, dropping my keys into the bowl, "I'm home!"

I was greeted by pin drop silence, not unusual seeing that it was midday.She's probably at the market, I thought, shrugging off that sudden feeling of uneasiness that was beginning to creep its way onto my brain.

I plodded my way up the stairs; that rather unsettling thought following me around like a cat that you can't seem to shake off.

"Probably my anxiety acting up again," I muttered, trying to reassure myself, "Or stress. Definitely the stress,"

I let out a long breath as I reached the top, willing the palpitations away. "Come on, bud," I said, patting my chest, "you're going to be okay. I know you are,"

Crash!

My head snapped up at the sound that came from the bathroom across the hall, the muscles of my body tensing in fear and anticipation.

"Who's there?" I commanded, "I'm armed! And I'm on my period! You don't want to mess with a girl when she's on her menses!"

Way to sound threatening..., said a voice in my head.

I waved the thought away as I slowly approached the source of the crash; the door to the bathroom was ajar, making it easier for me to see the calamity that took place. The rod that was holding the shower curtains was on the floor, whilst the curtain itself was covering a human sized lump that was on the floor.

I squinted my eyes, attempting to examine the person that was under the curtain;

"Not armed...," I whispered, slowly pulling it off, "so that should be a good th-,"

I froze mid sentence, the sight of her confirming my worst fears;

"Mom!"

---

"I'm here for Natasha Dam?" he asked, the sound of his voice making me angrier than I ever was.

I pushed myself off my seat and stomped towards the nurse's desk, my hands clenched into tight fists;

"Kristen," he said upon seeing me, a tone of surprise to his voice, "How's your moth-?"

Smack!

My entire body trembled at the sight of him; my mind overtook by a wave of emotions, undecided with every tide. But I knew what it was this time;

Anger.

A constant surge of anger.

"Don't. You. Dare," I hissed through gritted teeth, "You selfish, lying b*****d! It's all your fault! She wouldn't be dead if it weren't for you!"

It was as if time stood still as soon as those words were said, like it was some kind of spell that made everyone but us move. I covered my mouth with my hands, wishing that I could take them back, that my throat would not close up as I tried my level best not to cry.

"What?" he said incredulously, his eyes scanning my face for some traces of a lie, "She can't be,"

"Well," I replied as I put my hands down, my voice shaking with tears, "She is. Congratulations, you got what you-,"

"Is everything alright?" interrupted a female voice, a voice belonging to Lena nonetheless, my father's perfect girlfriend.

Grief immediately turned into rage,how could he?

He knew how my mom hated her.

How she brought back memories of him walking out on us.

"Oh, wow," I scoffed, "I'd never imagine you to stoop so low,"

"What do you mean?" she asked in lieu of him, her face filled with concern.

"You had to bring the b***h along," I answered, ignoring her, "Can't seem to keep it in your pants, now can you?"

"Kristen," she said, her voice firm, "I know that you're upset and all but that's no way to speak to your father,"

"Shut up, Julia Roberts," I said, "I'm having a conversation with my father. Who's obviously too chicken to fight his own battles,"

"Kristen," he finally said.

"Leave," I snarled before he even had the chance, "I would have killed you sooner but mom wouldn't have wanted that. Now,go,"