"You can still be broken, even when nothing's wrong."
. . .
"I've taken care of myself for three years, I don't need someone to take care of me now. I'm eighteen in two years, mom." She believed her mom when she said that Liam was kind. But she did...
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Take care of yourself <3
Her food was cold when she got up from the floor after drying her cheeks. She threw it away; she couldn't eat after that conversation. Her phone on the counter had pinged with a new message from her mom, the fifth one after their call. She didn't look at it, not yet.
Instead, she busied herself with homework, because no matter how shitty her day was, she still had grades to keep up. The math went straight out of her head after reading the chapter, but she tried. She had a test in history, but the years didn't stick and neither did the grammar in English. She sighed in frustration, something she had done a lot of recently.
She pushed the books away from her, wishing she could do the same with the rest of her problems. Standing up, she picked her phone up from where she had left it on the expensive kitchen counter before walking into the bathroom downstairs to brush her teeth. With foaming toothpaste in her mouth, she started reading through the seven messages her mother had sent her, two more had been sent while she was trying to do her homework.
The first one was just sweet and motherly, stating Genevie's mother wished she could speak longer but work needed her- nothing new. The five next ones were information about Liam, the man she would be living with, two weeks from now apparently. After reading through the five messages, she had a lot of questions but moved on to the last one. It was again back to the tone of a mother, wishing her a good night, asking her to do good in school and stay out of trouble – like that was something she needed to be reminded of.
The sad thought of her own mother not trusting her enough, instead feeling the need to remind her to do good in school and 'to stay out of trouble'. Didn't she realize her daughter was already doing good in school – perhaps a bit too good for her mental health's sake? Didn't her parents know she was afraid of getting into trouble, and would do anything to please others?
They could've written a paragraph about how good she already was doing, how proud they were of her, how they wished they could talk more often, see each other more often, and that they missed her so much that their hearts ached, like hers did. But no, all she got was a "remember to pay attention and do good in school, and don't cause any trouble".
The thoughts of what Genevie could've had brought her somber mood down deeper. Made-up memories of summers spent together in an imaginary house by the water, fishing with her glum dad and road trips with a fictional dog, like the fluffy one she always wanted, played through her suffering mind. She saw the life of a joyous girl flash in front of her eyes, like a movie, but with herself as the main character.
She didn't answer her tiresome mother, she just spit out the minty toothpaste, the taste something she would guess her life would taste like, strong for the roller-coaster, and something minty no one enjoys. Genevie then washed her mouth before sitting down on the cold tiles of the fancy bathroom floor. They felt really nice against her boiling skin, she was always too hot. Her hands, which hadn't returned from their shaky state, pulled on her long hair.
She thought she had made progress in steering her parents away from the idea of living with someone else. She had believed they had accepted the fact that Genevie lives alone and was okay with that. But evidently not.
Everything felt so out of her control, everything was going so fast, changes she had no control over flying around her. So much was still foreign, so many questions in her head were left unanswered, too many things to be anxious about.
The thought of moving from her house, her safe place, to some stranger in two weeks' time, where she knew nothing, scared the girl. Genevie wasn't comfortable in new places, in fact, she avoided new places, the unknown scared her. The information she got about her new 'home' from her mother did little to ease her worries.
She had gotten Liam's number with the encouragement to "talk to him and get to know him". She wasn't too keen on randomly messaging a stranger, especially not an older man who she had no idea of who he was. But she was also desperate for some kind of answer, if she could get to know this Liam before she moved in, then maybe her nerves would lessen a bit?
So, with shaky fingers, and after much consideration for what to write, she sent a message to Liam:
Hello, my mom gave me this number, is this Liam?
She didn't want to message the wrong person, that would be humiliation at its finest. Checking the time, the clock had turned nine, not late for many, but Genevie really needed her long beauty sleep.
So, she got up from the floor and walked up the stairs, nearly tripping two times, before opening the door to her chilly bedroom; like she preferred it. How someone could sleep in a warm room was something she would never understand.
Genevie had changed into silky brown pajamas with blue dots, the fabric feeling soft and cold against her skin, before she went down the stairs again, only tripping once, which she took as a win. She once again entered the kitchen, now to fill up a glass with water.
She waited for nearly a minute before the coldest water ran out of the severely over-priced tap. She fetched a straw from one of the drawers, not really liking the metal, but it would have to do. They didn't have any plastic ones.
When Liam hadn't answered after her trip up the stairs again, tripping once again but the icy glass in her hand remained full, she decided to give someone a call. A number she knew by heart, she hadn't dared to even think about forgetting it, it would've been too hard. She was still holding onto everything.
She counted the signals, a habit of hers, hoping someone would answer, like always. But also like always, no one answered, and the call went to voicemail. She rubbed her eyes and breathed in deeply before starting, feeling all the emotions running through her body.
"Hello again, Moon"
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Hello again!
As I said, I'm lazy and that's why it took some time before I published this, sorry!
Well, what do we think? Who's Moon? What do you want to happen? Any ideas?
Comment and please continue reading if you enjoyed this!
