Your mother's sickness has been getting worse. You didn't know what was wrong with her. She tried to put on a happy face, but you knew that she wasn't okay. She was way more tired than usual, she was vomiting a lot and she couldn't stand up without wobbling. You took care of her as much as she'd let you. She didn't want you wasting time on her.

You came home from school to see that the house was quite. Your brother wasn't home once again. You walked up the stairs and peeked into your mother's room. She was asleep. Her room felt a little hot so you walked over to the window and quickly cracked the window open. A nice breeze floated in, making you feel much cooler already.

You would let her be.

You decide you would cook for everyone. You walked down to the grocery in your school uniform. You had a good amount of money that you got from years of summer jobs. You were going to make a hearty chicken soup to help your mother with whatever was ailing her. You bought fresh vegetables and stopped by the butcher's place to get some chicken thighs. You wanted to uses the freshest ingredients for your mother's sake. You even planned on making your own broth. When you got home, you immediately began to cook.

The soup had to simmer for a while. You had nothing to do, but wander around. You didn't wish to read at the moment. You visited your father's study, you visited the game room that was usually only occupied by your brother, and both libraries. You studied the art on the walls of the hallways and you went down to the basement where your father stores all the alcohol. There was a table down there with a ash tray and cards on it. There was smoke coming from the tray.

Someone was here.

You paid no mind to it and went somewhere else, which happens to be your father's bedroom. The room was bland, but you didn't want to leave. Your father's room was very empty. There was a king size bed with a wooden frame near the far back of the room. The sheets on the bed were white and the duvet was gray. There was a small lamp on the nightstand next to the bed and there was also a picture. It was of your father, your mother, and a baby. You were pretty sure that the baby was Cayden.

You sat down on your father's bed, holding the small picture frame in your hands. You couldn't take your eyes off of it. Your mother used to look so... free. She had a glint in her eye that you've never seen before, not since you've been alive.

Her smile shined through the photo and it was contagious apparently because your brother was smiling too and so was your usually stoic father.

What was this? They all seemed happier before you came.

You remember the soup that you were making. It should be done by now. You left your father's room, walking down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

When you got down to the kitchen, your brother was there. He was stirring the soup. He gave it a taste, smiling.

"What are you doing?" You say.

"Why do you ask? Did you make this?" He says. He wasn't being aggressive. You wondered why.

"I did."

"It's good." He says, tasting it again. "Is it done?"

"Should be." You say, walking closer to him and the simmering pot. You turn off the stove.

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence. You poured some soup into a bowl. It was for mom. You were preparing a tray for her. There was a cup of water, her meds, and of course, the soup. As you were about to leave, Cayden says something.

"Thanks for dinner." He says.

You open the door to your mother's room. It was dark. You walk over to her nightstand and set the tray down for her. She would have to wake up soon to take her meds. You notice the box of condoms again. The box was empty.... has it always been empty?

"(Y/n)." You mother croaked. She's been crying. "Am I a whore?" She sat up in her bed. "Am I a dirty slut?"

You wondered what made her think that way. She never asked you such questions before.

"No." You say, looking her in the eye. Her loving eyes stared back into yours. She scanned your face, her soft expression becoming a more aggressive one.

"Don't lie to me! I heard you say it! I know what you think of me... what... you think..." Fresh tears fall from her beautiful eyes. "You think I can't handle the truth?!" She yelled. "I don't need your fucking pity!"

"I don't lie." You say, your eyes drifting back on to the empty condom box. "I wouldn't lie to you."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

You did what she said and then she slapped you. It hurt. It hurt because she wanted it to hurt and that made your heart hurt too. Everything hurt.

"How dare you look at me with his face! His stupid face!" She yells. "I hate you so fucking much! All you've done was haunt me and now you do this?!"

What was she talking about? What did you do?

"Did my heart stop?" You whisper. You didn't feel good. Your body felt heavy and your throats started to hurt. Something wanted to come out of your mouth, but you wouldn't let it. She was being bitter towards you. Your mother said she hated you. What did you do? Why did everything feel so cold? Your face remained the same. You were unreadable.

Without a word, you left her. You walked towards the door and didn't look back. She didn't like your face, so she shouldn't have to look at something so hideous. Your mother was crying, but you didn't see it. You only looked ahead. She reached her hand out towards you retreating form, eyes full of regret.

Never had she ever felt so much hatred towards anyone. Her need for love, her need for a man's touch.... she hated him not you. She could never hate you, but your face only reminded her of your real father and she hated that man with a passion. He wouldn't leave her mind, he was always with her and now... now—

It wasn't your fault. She shouldn't have yelled at you. She wanted to call out to you, she wanted to spring up from the bed and give you a hug and tell you that she loved you and give you a kiss on the forehead. She wanted to apologize, but she couldn't. She just.... couldn't.

"Please.... please don't leave me."

You walked straight to your room and you went to bed. There was no thinking about it... your mother hated you. The one person that meant the most of you... thinks nothing of you. You needed sleep. You were tired.

The next morning, you did not go check on your mother. You thought that maybe if you didn't talk to her for a while, she would forget why she hated you. You skipped breakfast and went to school.

The whole day, Joel wondered why you weren't speaking, but she didn't pry. She noticed a difference in you, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint it. She was worried about you. Liam and Aiden tried to persuade you to talk to their dad again, but stopped when they noticed how thick the air around you was. There was something up with you. You didn't seem right.

After school, Joel was just about ready to fight whoever made you this way. You were her friend and no one messes with her friends.

As you were about to leave campus, Joel stops you.

"What is up with you today?" Joel says, concerned.

"You don't have to worry about it..." You say. Your eyes weren't focused on her, you were looking somewhere past her.

"I know that, but I'll still worry anyway! Now tell me what's wrong!"

"Have you ever felt so strongly for someone that your world revolves only around them?" You asks.

"Well.. I've had a few crushes here and there..." Joel laughs, trying to get rid of the tension.

"It's nothing like that... I just..." Your eyes burned. "Never mind."

You turn away from Joel, walking home.

That's how school was.... until the last day of your father's trip.