Falling Away #Watty 2023

•Chapter 12•

I sat there, tears streaming down my face as I dwelled on everything. The day my mom left, all the memories of growing up, each fight my parents had. I remembered wanting them to show me love, support, and care, but they never did.

Reflecting on how I was bullied and then became the bully myself. Trust me when I say this, I never wanted to be mean to anyone, never wanted to be atrocious, but life never gave me the choice to pick. Covering my face with my palms, I continued to cry, feeling my face heating up.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see who it was as I struggled for a clearer vision. "Zoey, what are you doing here?" A familiar voice asked.

I wiped my tears and saw Gemma standing by the door. She rushed to me and sat next to me. "How long have you been here?"

I rolled my eyes, about to spit out mean words to her, but stopped, lowering my gaze. "I don't know what I did wrong, why everyone is being mean to me." For once, I sounded like a kid, but I was serious.

"It's not your fault; you never did anything wrong," Gemma said slowly. "If I were you, I would've done the same thing."

I looked up at her, surprised by her sympathy. She pulled out a pack of tissues, took one out, and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said, taking it. "But I was mean to you, I did terrible things to you."

"Yes, you were mean. But I've forgiven you. If you don't mind, we..."

The door creaked open, and Liam stood there, staring at me. He walked closer with a frown. "So this is where you're hiding, Zoey. I thought you weren't scared," he said, chuckling incredulously. "Nobody will believe the school mean queen is sitting in the janitor closet crying her eyes out."

Gemma shot him an annoyed look, but didn't say anything. I couldn't either. All I wanted at that moment was to go home and lock myself up in my room the whole day. An overwhelming headache reminded me that I had been crying for a long time. I managed to pry myself off the floor and walked over to Liam, who was now standing next to Gemma.

As I moved closer to him, I could sense his fear, like he was bracing himself for the unexpected. I took a step further, and he visibly cringed, thinking I would attack him. But instead, I did the unexpected.

I screamed angrily at his face, with all the anger left inside of me. The pain on my lips made me feel sickly, knowing that for once, my parents wouldn't have been proud of me, my sister wouldn't have been amused at my antics, and nobody would have believed the school mean queen.

And for the first time in my life, I felt emotionally weak as tears fall down my cheeks, appearing to be insane as Liam stared at me in awe. Gemma's jaw dropped, forming a perfect circle.

Liam shrugged his shoulders. "Is she alright?" he asked Gemma. She nodded silently. I stomped out, walking down the hallway like a soldier exiting a war zone. I came across Liam's group, but they didn't dare come closer.

I could remember the last time I cried like this. It was the night my mom left. I felt like I had lost everything: the zeal, the feeling of achieving anything, the reason to live. Everything seemed wrong to me, especially my own existence.

That night, I locked the door, even when my dad came knocking. I didn't open it. I locked myself in my room for days, without eating, without doing anything to lighten my mood. I was dormant. Sharp dings hit my phone, alerting me to a lot of messages, but I didn't bother to go close to my phone. I knew it would be my dad, probably worried sick about my well-being, or Ashley trying to be the motivational speaker, or she was also sharing the same state with my dad.

But the unexpected happened. Another sharp ding hit my phone, and immediately a voice note started playing. It seemed unnatural to me, but I was too weak to reason further.

Zoey dear.

I know things might have been on the rocky side for you since the past few months, I know how you feel. My heart aches for how hard it must have been for you to have lived under these conditions, what happened was awful. All those times when you speak to me in an impolite manner, I never took it personal because I understood everything. All I could see was the goodness in you. you always do good in tests, always succeed, always make sure of your achievements, I want to see how far you can go. If only you were more ambitious, you could achieve everything you ever dreamed of.

Please don't let anything discourage you from being your true self, and I'm hoping you know what that is. I wish that you are able to take care of yourself. I hope this will help you understand why I'm here and maybe I will be able to help you find yourself again, if only you will try a little harder.

There was a long pause before any words escaped my throat. I couldn't believe I had listened to everything. That evening, I finally emerged from my room, descending the stairs slowly. I felt weak from not having eaten for days. As I reached the last step, Mrs. Becca rushed to me, enveloping me in a tight hug.

"Everything will be fine, I'm here for you," she whispered reassuringly.

I couldn't deny that Mrs. Becca had always been kind to me. Over the years, she had shown concern for the events in my life. It felt surreal yet comforting at the same time. She may not fully understand what I've been through, but she understands me enough to offer her support.

She was like a mother to me.

"We'll talk about everything later, but first you need to eat something," she said, holding my hand as we walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Becca put some food on my plate and handed me some water, which I drank hungrily. I hadn't really had anything to drink in almost two weeks. When my mouth was full, I leaned back against the chair tiredly and just waited for dinner to end.

I felt a bit better, the tension leaving my body.

"You know what?" Mrs. Becca said excitedly. I looked up at her, waiting for her to finish her statement. "When you're done, I'll take you out for a stroll."

I blinked at her, a tiny smile appearing on my face. After dinner, Mrs. Becca told my driver that she wanted us to be alone and that he didn't have to drive us. She collected the key from him.

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