Left Out *COMPLETED*

5. Flashback, Fourteen Years Old

I was a wreck when she was gone. I've been starving myself, obviously eating, occasionally. Harvey's been concerned, but it went away when I hid the weight I've lost. I've been wearing more clothing, layering, so people wouldn't know.

It's not that I have weight issues, it's just I don't feel right eating when Ms., WickeeBee can't. I feel like I shouldn't be happy if Ms. WickeeBee can't. I shouldn't be able to have fun or live life if she can't. It's not fair. I felt no need to celebrate my birthday, not that he was going to anyway. I didn't want to because Ms. WickeeBee died on June 13th. I was too heartbroken to even go to her funeral, too weak.

***

BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Why do I live?" I asked myself as I got up. I head molly screaming, with dad. They were probably playing tag or something. Molly is 9, but she's gotten rude. Spoiled even, dad always buys her things. She already got a phone.

Everything got quiet as I walked into the kitchen, getting an apple; I eat like once a week. They both stared as I was a foreign animal or something.

"Hey, dumb shit," my father said as he picked up Molly, taking her out of the room. I sighed as I walked back to my room, taking out my blades, pulling my sleeves up. I sighed as I saw there was no more space on my arms. I shrugged as I ran the blade over the hardened cuts, wincing.

"Du-" I stopped as my father opened the door, gasping. "What the fuck are you doing?" He asked, snatching my blade. I felt as if he stole a part of me.

"GIVE IT BACK!" I shouted, trying to grab it. I've been cutting since Ms. WickeeBee died, it's gotten worse, but I feel like I need to do it every day; like an addiction.

"No, I don't ignore you so you can go ruining your skin! What the fuck is wrong with you?" He shouted, kicked me back on the bed when I tried to take it from him.

"EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH ME!" I exclaimed.

"You're a fucking dumbass, you know that right?" he shouted back to me.

"Daddy, why are you talking to him?" She said 'him' in a nasty way.

"Sweets, go, now," he looked towards her, she rolled her eyes and went.

"Well?" My dad asked me, I gave a questioning look. "Are you ashamed of yourself?" He said, crossing his arms on his chest. I nodded my head, sitting back on my bed. It was silent for a minute, I thought he left, but I felt my bed dip; he was still here.

"I don't want you cutting, alright?" I just stared blankly at him. "Do you want to go to therapy?" I immediately shook my head. "Then stop cutting. Let me see your cuts." He said, staying emotionless, I sighed.

I lifted my sleeves, "I know I l-"

"OH MY GOD!" I head my dad start to sob. He immediately grabbed me and hugged me. Deary, don't kill yourself. "He sobbed, "I can't have another person commit suicide." He said, wiping his eyes.

"Who else....committed suicide?" I asked, wary.

"Your mother, she was a beautiful woman. She was so kind but she was overly-sensitive. Believe it or not, she loved you very much. She had depression since the age of 15, even when she and I got married, she still was depressed, even though she still loved me. When you were born, she never was sad; she was as happy as a human can be." He paused, smiling to the past. He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes more.

"However, when you were born, she got death threats. Someone threatened to kill you if she didn't leave me. It was a girl from high school, she was a psychopath, everyone knew it, but I didn't know she loved me.