Achieving Unbroken

-Chapter 44-

Achieving Unbroken
Chapter Forty Four

—

"You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece;
And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink"
Colors | Halsey

—

Jason
[Tuesday, August 3rd, 2018]

It's been two days since I last saw my dad.

He's called my mom, I know because I hear them talking all the time when Mom thinks she's being discreet. I'm too scared to talk to him; so she tells him that I'm out with the girls, or asleep, or just plain can't talk.

I feel terrible for what I did. For punching him, for lashing out when I thought that I finally had a grasp on things.

If he had told me, I wouldn't have lashed out. We could have talked about it.

I've spent the last two days wishing things were different.

Not just wishing that I hadn't hit my father, not just wishing that I could take back every word that came out of my mouth when Lilla was just trying to help.

I'm alone with my thoughts, thinking that if Joey were here, none of us would be in this position. If I hadn't been dilly dallying and just went and got Joey at that stupid party, he would be alive and I wouldn't have punched Dad or snapped at Lilla.

It's been two days since I've spoken to Lilla.

She left instantly after getting something to tell Carl. I only looked at her once, and there were tears in her eyes; tears over me. I shouldn't be the cause of her sadness, or stress, and the thought that I was even making her cry killed me. It made me more of a wreck than I already was, and I added that guilt on my rant that I was giving my mothers about how badly I've fucked up over and over.

I want to talk to her; I need to talk to her.

I don't know if I'll have the confidence to talk to my dad if I don't make up with her.

Grabbing my phone off of the side of my bed, I scroll to her contact, internally debating whether or not to call or text.

She doesn't like phone calls, but a call would show how important it is that we talk.

Phone call it is.

As the phone rings against my ear, I can't tell if I'm praying for her to answer or if I'm hoping she won't answer so that I can just leave an awkward message and have more time to prepare what I really want to say.

"J— Jason?"

Ohmyfuckinggodsheansweredspeakidiotspeak

"Lilla. Hey."

"... Hey."

She probably doesn't want to talk to you, dipshit.

Mentally and emotionally exhausted, I roughly run my right hand up and down my face, deciding to just cut to the chase.

"Fuck, Lilly. I'm so sorry. I was such an asshole, and you were just trying to help, and—"