Run-Away Little Sister: Hurting

Chapter Seventeen: Mental

Later That Afternoon

ANASTASIA'S POV:

Mental.

A relation to the mind, or relation to disorders of the mind.

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I walked out of the room with my authority and confidence easily detectable.

As a sixteen year old teenager who has multiple responsibilities, such as: having small children to look after, multi-million dollar companies to take care of, and a gang that requires lots of attention, plus my education and having a normal social life, it's incredibly easy to get overworked.

And today was one of those days.

Soon after the meeting with the principle, my biological brothers, and Dane (along with his parents), Wyatt and I were getting ready to leave the school. I couldn't find it in me to focus, my mind wasn't in the right setting, and I felt like I was going mental.

My head was spinning, my eyes were blurring, my hands were shaking, my heart was thumping heavily in my chest, and I felt like I was going to break out crying at any given moment. Lately, all it seems I've been doing is either crying or wanting to cry.

So deciding it was best for my mental health, Wyatt and I left school during third period, which was when we had finally gotten out of that meeting.

I had decided to drown myself in work until we had to pick up Luke, Max, Layla, Kayla, and Jamie. They knew I wasn't in school today, I was taking a mental health day.

But being able to spend a whole day dedicated to just my companies work and gang work was what I needed in order to reset my mindset. I spent the day in my office, no distractions, just drowning myself in work, hoping to keep the memories of the past in the past.

Today was one of those days where the past kept coming to the forefront of my mind.

And I hated that I had no control over it. 

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After School, 4 O'Clock

It was the end of the day, I had finished most of my work for my different companies, and would be able to finish the rest once we were back at home after picking up Courtney and Dylan.

Wyatt was going into the school in order to find our homework from the missed classes. Not bothering to leave the car, I stayed in the passenger seat, waiting for my friends to come back to the car. I was scrolling through my cellphone on Instagram, wondering how long it was going to take my friends, while occasionally liking a photo I come across.

Checking my surroundings every thirty seconds, I quickly jerked my head up at the sound of shouting and panicked voices.

"Matthew! Please calm down." I heard a familiar voice shout out.

"No! NO! It's all my fault." I heard Matthew's voice cry out, "If I would have told the truth, she would have been fine. We would have all loved her, she would have been protected. Momma and Dad wouldn't be disappointed."

"Matthew, it's not your fault. You did what any other child would have done while they were fearing for their life." I heard James speak in a stern tone.

I watched them through the car window, feeling like an outsider looking in. And I couldn't help but think that if my parents never died, I wouldn't really know my best friends and I would be in a happy family dynamic. I would be normal.

"It is my fault! If I wouldn't have been such a coward, if I would have taken the beatings instead of my sister, she'd be loved and she wouldn't have to hold all this trauma. It's my fault."