The Last Breath

Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Hi!
I usually don't even do these but I felt like this one was necessary considering it's the beginning of this story and I felt like I needed to clear some things up.

First of all, I'll probably do Author's Notes at the end of a chapter in the future unless I'll feel like it has to be at the beginning and if I do them, please read them because they're probably important.

Second of all, the main reason I even began this note is the fact I already have an idea what this story is going to be about and I want to emphasize the fact this story is purely fiction and it is NOT based off of true events.

Enjoy! :)

WARNING: this story may contain triggering and unpleasant details, such as self harm, mental disorders, suicide, violence and possibly other triggering things. If you found it uncomfortable to read, don't. I hope you're alright and safe. If you're feeling suicidal or you're self harming, please seek help. Your health is important!

Mature language warning!

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Being an only child is often pretty difficult. You're always guilty of everything and it sometimes feels like your parents don't have a tiniest clue about raising a child. They didn't really had practice though so I give them that.

But being an only child is also really tough when your parents break up and you have no one to lean on to.

That brings me to the long awaited beginning of the story of my life.

And that, my dear reader, is the first topic I'd like to address.

That brings us four years back, when I was fourteen. I remember it was summer break, the beginning of July and it was Thursday night when yelling woke me up. I could recognize the voices - they belonged to my mom and dad. I could hear glass shattering, door slamming and two adults screaming one over the other. After I heard a car drive away, I fell back asleep, not being even slightly aware of what had just happened.

The next morning I woke up, thinking that the fight I overheard the night before was a dream. I took a shower, changed into a loose tank top with some denim shorts and brushed my teeth. I didn't have a will to fight my curls so I made a bun and went to the kitchen.

I barely left my room as I noticed our old family photos were scattered across the floor with glass from the frames shattered practically everywhere. With caution, I took a few steps forward. The whole apartment smelled like alcohol. I saw wine bottles, a half empty whiskey bottle and a ton of glasses on our kitchen counter. There were a few dark wine stains on the wall and on the floor beneath them, there was glass.

I found my mother passed out on the floor next to all her beverages. She looked terrible. Her usually neatly styled blonde hair was glued to her face, her mouth was opened and she was drooling. She was wearing her light pink nightgown she bought just a few days back.

I was happy that she was still breathing.

I had experience with people passed out from the amount of alcohol they consumed from a few parties I've been to. We usually let them sleep and they always woke up shortly after they passed out anyway. But she looked like she was laying there for quite a long time before I found her.

I decided I'm not going to risk it and I called the paramedics.

You know how it went next. She got a stomach pump and she was fine.

Well, fine physically. She was an emotional disaster for a month after that. She barely even talked to me. All she did was eat her mint chocolate chip ice cream, watch soap operas on TV and cry.