Forget Me (Adore You Pt. 2)

Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

When I got home from Maria's, I went straight to take a shower. I felt terrible about how I left things with her, I knew I was snappy, and the three hours of sleep I got the night before probably didn't help. Still, her sudden drop in interest was upsetting. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became.

I got out of the shower, and went to heat up some food in the kitchen; my dad was watching tv, probably smashed, and nursing a beer in his hand. Looking at him was irritating, and I felt my temper bubbling.

Then I smelled it, "Did you smoke inside the house? Could you not?" I asked sharply as I walked into the living room.

He completely ignored me, and I let out a measured breath, upset at his lack of reaction.

I went to my room and slammed the door, feeling my anger beginning to boil over. I took out everything from the box I carried from Maria's house. It was full of receipts and checkbooks, tax statements, three different journals. I am sure there was more at her house, but I would get through these first.

I opened the journal Liam gave me and read through an entry. I could hear the TV blasting in the living room and gritted my teeth, trying to concentrate.

 I felt so frustrated I could almost burst. Imagined my skin splintering open. Sometimes imagined myself jumping off buildings or bridges just to feel some sort of release. As if the fall would push out the breath I had stuck in my chest.

I opened my door, "Can you turn it down," I asked.

Silence.

I rolled my eyes and stomped into the living room, my eyes were wild as I searched for the remote.

"You don't pay the bills," He said gruffly.

Found it. I lowered the volume anyway, "I'm trying to study."

"Put it back to how it was."

"No. it's too loud, you're not the only person that lives here," I chastised.

His hand grabbed my hair before I could take another step.

"Raise the volume,"

My hands shook a little, but I felt a fire inside, "No."

The remote was out of my hands despite my tight grasp. I felt the hard plastic slam into the bone between my eye and my temple a second later, then again on my cheekbone.

The volume went up even louder, and he was back on his chair, ignoring me.

I went back into my room and slammed the door as hard as I could. It made a cup holding pencils on my dresser fall over. I sat on my bed, grabbed my pillow, and screamed into it. The release didn't feel as good as I expected it to.

 I sat afterward, looking at the wall where Robbie placed hooks so I could hang my lanyard and my bag. The gold key that opened the art room gleamed with the sunlight that came through my window. I could just study somewhere else, I thought to myself. Maybe I could tutor Chris. I didn't feel like being alone.

I grabbed my bag, stuck two of the Bennett journals inside, and put the lanyard around my neck.

"Where are you going?" My dad asked as I opened the door.

"There's food in the fridge. I'll see you tomorrow or whenever you're back," I said and closed the door.

Once I was on the bus, I realized I didn't really have a destination in mind. Chris hadn't answered his phone, and I figured he was still in practice.