Semua Bab Tainted Ties : Bab 1 - Bab 10

I'm on FaceTime with my boyfriend when there is a gentle knock at my door.Quickly adjusting my tank top to hide my exposed boob, I hang up without warning. Climbing from my bed, I pace across my carpeted floor to open the door. My Mother's dimpled smile greets me. Her golden brown hair is pressed straight, grazing her exposed shoulders from the strapless green romper she's wearing. "Going somewhere without me?" I ask with a grin. "That business trip I told you about," she responds, toying with the strands of my messy hair. I open my door a bit wider, welcoming her in before walking away. And of course...she doesn't bother to close it behind her. "You look gorgeous. Did Dad see you in this romper?""No," she utters, but I'm already reaching for my phone to snap some pictures."Give me a nice pose, Ms Fashion Designer."She runs her fingers through her hair before tucking her hands in her pockets and turning to the side, "Is this good?""Perfect!" I smile, forwarding it to Dad. I

It's the day of the funeral, and I still haven't shed a tear. Kaitlyn's palm is sweaty, and I can't help but feel like it's a handcuff. She won't let me go. She keeps tiptoing around me as if she's waiting for me to explode, but doesn't want to be a trigger. But she doesn't have to worry about that happening. Because I feel nothing. My Mom isn't here today. She's on her business trip somewhere. I keep calling her, but she isn't responding. They keep telling me that I need to eat. That I need to sleep, but I can't. Not when she hasn't called to say she's okay. It's so selfish of her. And not only her, but Dad, who locks himself away and walks around the house as if I don't exist. My entire life surrounds them. My entire being is them, and I feel so hollow now that neither of them will speak to me. The two people who mean the world to me went away, leaving me all alone. "Here," Kaitlyn offers, stretching me a bottle of water, "It's hot."I take it, but I make no effort to open it.

I silence the alarm before it rings; it's not as if I'll be waking up anyway. My eyes squint at the sudden exposure of light oozing from my phone screen, and I see that it's 6 a.m. Normally, at this time, my mom would burst through my door and crawl on top of me. As her weight crushes me, I'd have no choice but to get up. It's weird. But weird was my mother's thing. Now my room is dark and still, void of her. It's in these moments that I miss her the most, when I realise that she is my world. So even though I know that today is Monday and months have passed, I sink lower into my covers and resume staring at the ceiling. My room has become my cocoon. I sit replaying that afternoon over and over again. Sobbing until my skin feels raw and my throat feels gritty. I still can't come to a full realisation because it feels like yesterday since she was last here. It doesn't feel like months. The void in my chest is still in full effect. It sucks every breath I take and leaves me

As I descend the stairs, my hand clutches the railing. I try to steady the beat of my heart, pushing back the overwhelming thought to spin around and lock myself in my room forever. I spot my father at the table, his slouched back turned. His side profile comes into view, chin in his palm as he stares at nothing, a sag present between his brows. The sound of me pulling a chair out awakens him. He sits straighter and takes his coffee cup in hand. Lukewarm now, I suppose. Still, he takes a small sip. “Good morning,” I murmur, taking a seat at the dining table, where a stack of pancakes sits drenched in melted butter, accompanied by an array of sides: scrambled eggs, bacon, and bologna. Bread and fresh fruit are set aside along with a jug of orange juice. But I only reach for the container of Cheerios and the milk.Cereal is the only thing I normally eat for breakfast, except when Mom forces me to eat healthy. Now that she isn't here, I don't have to bother. I shift my focus back to

I stand facing the wooden door, my hand raised and fingers folded, ready to knock. Behind the door, I hear shuffling, and I step away, returning my hand to the pocket of my hoodie. All morning. It took all morning to muster the strength and courage to face her after everything. Because I know I have to say goodbye. But I'm not sure I can. If I should. Then the door opens, and there she is with her curls bundled atop her head and dark circles swallowing her eyes. Her grip loosens on the trash bag she's holding as she stumbles back in shock. "Serena," Kaitlyn says, breathless. Her brown eyes are dull and droopy; sweater barely clinging to her tired frame. I instinctively reach for her, but my hand retreats into the safe corners of my pocket, knowing it's not needed. I clear my throat after the silence between us has worn thin, and she is starting to look everywhere but at me. "Hi. Can we talk?" For a moment, her lips part, and then she folds them, giving me a small nod. And wi