~Zane~
A day before library fight: Zane's House
I was walking around my kitchen making dinner for myself when my phone rang.
No Caller ID
It's probably a scam caller, so I decide to not pick it up. But this stubborn person on the other line doesn't give a shit that I don't pick up and keeps on calling over and over again.
1 missed call
2 missed call
3 missed call
4 missed call-
"911 whats your emergency?" I say into the line, hoping the caller gets scared shitless that they kept calling 991
"Don't fool me son, if i wanted to call 911, I would've called to send your ass to jail."
No fucking way this is happening right now
the nerve this guy has to call me right now, I am fuming with angry. The fact he has the NERVE to call me after what he did is actually beyond me. The fact he even had a single thought of me durning this day is really making me mad
"No response to your daddy?'
I don't respond. If I do, this penthouse will be in ruins with the amount of anger radiating off me
"alright then, well, you know what this day is son." I can visibly see the smirk forming on his face during he said that line.
Yes, I fucking know what fucking day it is, and the nerve, the fucking guts my father has to call me to remind me of this day when he knows what he did is beyond me.
"this day reminds me of her so much. Her pretty screams, he pretty pleas for help, her-"
turning my phone so it's in front of me and screaming into the phone with all hate and rage I can muster "You fucker, you say another fucking word and I will personally send you to hell, and I will make you death nice and slow, and painful, make it last till you beg and beg for mercy, but-"
"You fucker I will personally send you to hell, is that all you have son?" my dad questions with a hint of disappointment for the way I talked
Im breathing so hard right now it feels like I've ran a marathon. I'm pacing around my kitchen, walking from the kitchen sink to the end of the island then back, then stopping shaking my head, stretching my arms out on the the edge of the island to stop the memories forming in my brain.
"It's my favourite fucking week of the year"
That's it
If I listen to any more of what this man has to say I will be going to murder him in a heartbeat
I cut the phone and drop it to my island counter, hoping it didn't break or crack, but I can't think of that right now
I'm pacing the length of my apartment, walking from my bedroom to the living room, the living room to the kitchen, kitchen to my bathrooms, just pacing to get the horrid voice of my father out of my memory.
I tried so hard to forget about him, forget that he even existed, but in a mer second all of that work dissipated
all thats left is the horrid memory of what happened this week in my 17 year old life, one I try to forget but never can
It's getting too much
I'm breathing so hard, but it feels like no air no oxygen is getting into my system. It feels like I'm about to break something, which in hindsight I might.
All I feel is pure rage.
Rage and pain
rage so strong not even what happened a year ago can compare to what i'm feeling.
I grab my vase of flowers I had on my counter in my kitchen and throw it across the room, shattering the once prefect vase and flowers to nothing but pieces. I pick up the remote on the island and throw it across the room, breaking it into chunks of plastic that are now littered around my living room floor
I screamed so loud in pain, rage and hurt that my neighbour's probably called the cops to check what happened here
papers that are on my kitchen counter as we'll fall to the floor from me aggressively swiping them.
I pace around my home again looking at the destruction I made, and then putting my hands to my head because everything fucking hurts
my head hurts
my hand hurts from throwing things
My Heart and Soul Hurt
Everything in my body is in so much pain, but not from physical pain.
from mental and emotional pain. from what happened a year ago. From what my father did a year ago. From him making something I loved so much leave because of him.
Because of what he did
I stagger back till I hit a wall and slid down it, curling myself into a ball and crying. Crying and crying and crying for god knows how long. I hit my head on the wall repeatedly, then stand up and pace, but then the emotional rage and pain comes back and I cry again either standing up or fall back down to the floor since my knee's give out from the pain i'm facing
I cry for what happened that week
I cry for what my father did to the one thing I love
I cry because I had the opportunity to save the one thing I loved, I had the opportunity to help the one I love. All I had to do was look. Look closer. The signs were there, but I was too blind to see
and now I cry because now
their gone
and it's my fault
---------------------------------------------
I just wanted to say sorry for not posting for so so long. I got really busy with life and school, and then I lost complete motivation for my book because I don't know if it's good or not. I feel like it's not good and that I'm wasting time on this book because it's not good at all. but I still like to write so I will still be posting chapters just not regularly because im losing motivation, but I'll still try
other than that,
what do you think happened with Zane for him to act like this?
What do you think happened a year ago?
anyways thats all I have for you
Word count:1037
LIVING FOR YOU
YOU ARE READING
~LIVING FOR YOU~
Romance-Adelina Diaz is a 17 year old girl who's a senior in high school. She's kind, caring, passionate, everything that a women should be. That's just a persona. Home life is... tragic. With a drunk parent, she gets beaten over the littlest things. I'm t...
