It had been a week since that night with Azael.
I sat on a counter of my kitchen, apple in hand, when Elliot came walking in, along with my father and mother.
Unched tears held in Elliots eyes, causing me to immediately slide off the counter and walk over to him. Was this it? Were they both the reason El had barely talked to me this last week, why he looked like he was going to cry whenever in my presence?
My eyes flashed to theirs flickering between the two of them as I bent to hug Elliot, to comfort him for I reason I did not know.
"Nuria..." My father began, scratching at the stubble on his jaw before he dropped his hand.
"Your mother and I have been discussing something, we need to tell you."
"Well no shit," I spat bitterly "Elliots been upset all week, spit it out."
Some would call me ungrateful, rude, dusgusitng, even, for the way of which I spoke to my parents, but I didn't see it that way because they were barely parents. My father was gone for many months at a time, last year, he was gone for almost an entire year. My mother, well, she left the parenting of Elliot to me and spent her time drinking wine with her friends, complaining about the two women at her work and occasionally, occasionally, having a conversation with me.
Their right to be talked to with respect when they didn't deserve it vanished when their respect for their children vanished. They made their bed, now they would lie in it.
My mother and father glanced at each other, a knowing look in their eyes and annoyance displayed on their face. My father nodded.
"Why don't you calm yourself down before we tell you."
My head spun immediately to him. "No, I'm fine." my breaths came out quick. "Tell me now."
My mother stepped in, "Nuria you're fathers right, its late, we'll tell you in the morning," She placed a hand on Elliots shoulder. "C'mon Elliot, lets get you to bed."
I chuckled looking up at the ceiling as they began walking out. "Fine." I walked in the opposite direction to the front door. "Fucking be like that."
I pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind me.
If they weren't going to tell me, then they wouldn't tell me. I could wait a few hours until the morning, but I couldn't wait sat in my room so I walked down the pavement.
Orange light reflected off my face as I stuffed my hands into my pockets. It was a cold night, but it was barable. The cold air was a nice contast to my flushed skin so I welcomed the frozen weather.
The night was silent, no cars on the road, no chatter from neighbouring houses, just silence.
It made the beating of my heart all too loud in my ears but it would quiet soon. And it was nice, not having something to talk back to or having something unpleasant to listen to.
I turned a corner, flicking my hood over my head.
The hood skimmed my eye brows, making me just about able to see, not that I could see much anyway at that hour, the street lights were too sparse to really reveal much, I could only see a splatter of orange ground beneath and the occasional light blaring through a house near by.
It was stupid being out so late, especially as a woman. But my hoodie did a pretty good job at covering my figure, and my height was a bonus.
Besides, I really could not stay inside that house any longer. I got explosive over the littlest of things. My temper was too short and my ability to keep quiet was even shorter.
YOU ARE READING
A Person I Used To KnowRomance
Nuria Daeva is a 17 year old girl with a traumatic past which she is yet to overcome. Shes been in America for 2 years now and she's struggling but finally learning to love herself again but it's hard when your learning to love someone else, too.