the suicide hotline | ✔️

5.

i wake up to my alarm clock, "Wendy, get the hell up!" my 'father' yells

what an asshole, i have my own car and money and i can drive myself, just so you know. but i wouldn't dare to really say that to his face.

i look at my phone and it reads 6:40am, rubbing my eyes i get out of bed and put a flannel on with black leggings. i grab vans that I had to buy myself.

i've been so used to taking care of myself and buying myself stuff since no one else does. which doesn't bother me, I'm used to being this independent.

i brush my hair, teeth and put natural makeup on.

i grab my keys, backpack, and headphones and hurry down the stairs to pass the evil man in the kitchen.

i pass him and he shoves me into the wall, and i can't help but push him back.

i hear a faint yell and i wince grabbing my shoulder which was violently pushed into the wall.

and i ran into my car, locking it as soon as i shut the door.

i put the car in reverse and backed out of my driveway and started the route to work.

there's only one fear today... going home.

i can't help but fear, why did i push him back.

it's 7:00am and i'm sitting in my work parking lot and decide to make a quick call.

'ring....ring.....'

"hello this is your national suicide hotline. im here to help." a very very familiar deep voice says almost like its rehearsed

"h-hi." i stutter

"oh, it's you again?" i hear a soft relaxed chuckle

"yeah that's me." i refrain

"is everything okay? anything happen this morning?"

"uh.. yeah." i sniffle

"what happened? are you okay or hurt?"

"okay yes, hurt very."

"i got woken up by the guy who is labeled as my dad, but truly isn't. to me parents are just labels, you have to call them that and respect them because of the label that they brought you into the world, but they treat you as if they never wanted you here in the first place. that mans not my father. i pushed him today and now i'm totally gonna get it when i go home. if i don't call around 12 then start planning my funeral. please.."

"do you have a friends house you can go to?" he asks "concerned"

"friends?" i laugh

"those are labels to you too?"

"well i have one. but she's really busy. i think." i hesitate

"well... " i hear an awaited pause "why don't you call me again after work and i can try to keep your mind off it, maybe you can sneak back into your room instead of going through the front." he tries to plan out.

"i don't know, i can get caught going in through my room. there are days where he will wait for me in my room." i sigh

"what does your mom do.. when this is going on?"

"m-my mom?"

"s-she watches." i look down sadly but of course he can't see that.

"w-why don't you stick up for yourself.?" the man hesitantly

"do you know what might happen if i 'stick up' for myself" i spit out

this man is a joke, seriously.

"well, have you ever stuck up for yourself in this situation?"

"... o-of course i have!"

"then try to tell him, how he's not strong just because he drinks and that he can't control you. you're 18 years old."

i laugh into the phone sarcastically, "yeah because that's gonna work so great. especially to someone who can't even control himself with liquor."

"look, i'm trying... that's not enough either ? for anyone."

i look at my phone frozen not believing his words.

"it didn't mean to come out like that."

"yeah, i'm gonna go to work now."

i hang up quickly and put my phone away. taking the deepest breath in the world before i break down.. again.