Mother ➳ Ally Brooke

twenty

The Next Morning

I opened my eyes and automatically felt the stinging sensation of the bright light shining in through the window.

"Good morning." Mom whispered beside me.
I groaned trying to stretch my body a little but it hurt too bad to move, "What time is it?"
"9:45." She answered before putting her book down on the table by my bed.
"Oh jeez. It's way too early." I groaned closing my eyes again.
"I need to talk to you about something, Y/N." Mom sounded hurt and stern.
"Can't it wait until like 5?"
"No, it can't. I need you to listen to me."
I sighed, "Fine. What do you want?"
You could tell she didn't want to say what she was about to say, "Your father and I have been talking about this with the doctor and went over a lot of things." She paused for a second then continued after pushing her hair to the side of her head and scooted her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "You're not happy and we see that. We want to make you happy but you don't let us. So, we've decided to have you be sent to an- um establishment to help you get better."
I was speechless, "You're sending me to rehab? Are you shitting me?"
"Language!" She scolded me. "And yes, it's what's best. You haven't only been abusing pills. You've obviously developed some deep depression that we can't help you with. We don't even know what to do about it anymore." Mom replied honestly but I could tell this wasn't something she wanted. I don't know why, though. "Then there's the fact that you've been hiding your eating disorder from all of us."
My heart started pumping fastly, "Eating disorder?" Play it cool.
"Don't play games, Y/N. You've been bulimic and you've did a good job hiding it, but that was the last straw with us. There's something wrong and if we can't fix it, then maybe a professional can."
"If you send me to a fucking rehab center, I'll never forgive you." I spat the harsh words at her.
"I'm just trying to help you!" She pleaded.
"Well, stop! I'm just trying to be a normal teenager."
"This isn't what normal teenagers do." She was beginning to get worked up.
"How the hell would I know? I'm not normal. Nothing about me is normal. Nothing about this is normal, Mom." I started to feel my heart beat faster which made my chest throb harshly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I could hear the offense in her voice.

This was it. I was going to blow up at her.

"It means that I fucking hate my life! I'm not normal. I don't have anything that can help me relate to the people around me. I hate that you and Dad are famous. I hate that I can't go anywhere without someone asking about you. I hate that I don't feel like I'm really your kid. I'm nothing like you or Dad. Am I adopted or something? I just don't feel like I belong here. That's why I did all of this. Okay? I had to get away from everyone. I want to start over. I don't want any of this anymore." I couldn't help it. The words were true. I was angry. I pulled my cast off the arm rest to reach over to my other arm and pull out my IV.

I don't care how much unbearable pain I'm in, I want to get out of here. I want to get away from everyone. Especially Mom.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked almost worriedly.
"I'm trying to leave. I don't want to just sit here and wait to be took away to rehab. Are you serious?" I said in a bitchy tone.

Lauren and Camila walked in the room.
"What the hell is happening?" Lauren asked getting closer to the bed. She pushed me down and caused my body to fall back into its previous position. "Lay down, kid. What's your problem?"
"My problem is that I'm not going to rehab. Y'all are fucking crazy if you think that I'm going to go somewhere like that." I didn't care about a filter at this point. My sanity is at stake.
"There's no point in fighting about it. It's happening so lay down and get better." Lauren replied pulling the nurse plug to alert them.

--

TWO WEEKS LATER

Mom had already left for the tour. Now Dad and Jase were with me in the hospital.

I was healing pretty good, but what I was dreading about this healing process was the fact that it meant I was about to be sent to a rehab center in New York in 2 hours.

I would be shipped out of everyone's pathetic life for two months while I figured out what the hell is wrong with me.

But I don't plan on doing that. In fact, I plan on keeping my habits to myself and never stopping. Why should I? If this can get me away from that life and ship me off to New York City, then these habits are obviously doing wonders for me.

"You ready to go, kid?" Dad said walking into my hospital room that is crowded with flowers, stuffed animals, and food.
"No." I shortly answered him trying to pull my crew neck on over my huge cast.
Jase skipped through the door, "Dad, they said they're ready to fly her out."
I groaned, "I hope you know I'll never forgive any of you for this. Once, I get out, I plan on staying away from all of you."
"Fiesty. I'll remember that when you want me to hook you up with one of my friends." Jase laughed at me.
"Jase, go tell them that she's almost ready and stop patronizing your sister." Dad told the older boy.

Jase smirked and walked over to me on the bed to give me a kiss on my forehead, "Don't forget to write letters to me while you're in hell. I heard Satan has free postage." He joked.
I couldn't help but smile, "I'll be sure to do that right after I reserve your seat next to me in that lake of fire."
He chuckled quietly, "Keep that humor. It's all we Hernandez-Ogletree kids have."
Jase walked out of the room leaving Dad and I alone.

He stood in the corner but walked closer to my bed. I kept my eyes averted to the ceiling, not wanting to even acknowledge his presence.

"Come on, Y/N. You can't be mad at your own father forever." He whined grabbing my hand.
I pulled it away quickly, "Michael Jackson did it until he died. I'm sure I can break his record."
"I just want you to live, that's it. A parent isn't supposed to worry if their kid dies before them. That's not how it works. You're supposed to outlive me and your mother." He was trying his best to make the best out of this situation. "I just want you to be healthy and happy. That's all."
"Is that really what you want?" I asked sincerely. This is my last chance.
"More than anything."
"Then don't make me go. Take my allowance away, and ground me. Just don't make me go to rehab. I'll feel like a freak." I couldn't help but be honest hoping that he would understand.

"Sir, we can take her now." A few nurses said walking into the room.

I looked up to my Dad with pleading eyes. He frowned and leaned close to me to press his lips to my forehead.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I can't stop it. I love you. Mom and I will be around as much as possible."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Don't bother."

The nurses helped me out of the bed and put me in a wheelchair to take me up to be airlifted out of that shitty hospital and into a new one. Only this one will be full of addicts and mental cases.

Great.