My Cure For Depression

Chapter 8 : River Flows In You

The picture is Enrique.

I don't want to see anyone. I lie in the bedroom with the curtains drawn and nothingness washing over me like a sluggish wave. Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead.

Margaret Atwood

Fury sat on his bed turning to face the paintings. My eyes followed his movements wherelse my body was too scared to move. He looked at me and grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to his lap.

He wrapped one hand around my waist while I sat on his lap. With the other hand, he started pointing to all the paintings and explaining about them. He had the paintings to help calm him down. It helped control his rage and anger.

I tried my best to concentrate on what he was saying but it was so difficult. My mind was occupied with the though of the gun laying beside me. Then he suddenly removed his hand from my waist and leaned back, placing both of them on the bed.

He looked at me probably expecting me to say something as I've been so silent. Then his expression changes, he had mix feelings. He looked scared, angry and worried. He nudged me to get up and he followed. "Sis, I'm tired. I'm gonna take a nap. I'll see you later at dinner," He says as he gently nudged me to leave his room by placing his hand on my back while walking to the door.

I left the room in silence. He musy have noticed his gun there and scared that I wound find it. I need to find out the truth and asking won't do it. They are stubborn bulls. I have to find out myself. I need to check their other rooms when their not at home.

2 weeks later

At dinner time, all of the guys looked very tense. Their fist were clenched but Hugo was the one who kept a straight face. He didn't speak a word. Were they angry at me for something? "Belle, we need to talk after dinne...,"Hugo began before he was cut of by the ringing of my phone. "Sorry let me take this," I took my phone out and walked out the dinning.

No caller ID. I answered it. "Hello? Who's this?" I asked the caller. "Belle, sweety. Don't even remember your own father?" I cringed hearing my dad even bothering to call me after so many days. "How are you, Belle?" He asks me.

Since when does he care? "Never better dad," I say in a normal tone. "So you decided to leave your father and stay with your criminal brothers? Their bad, Belle. Come back. I'm sorry," He tells me. I walked to my room as I wanted to shout so bad but not from where my brothers could hear me.

"How dare you call them that?! They've been nothing but good to me! Better than you that's for sure!" I reply back angrily. "Belle dont be like this," He pleads with me. "No, dad. I won't move back with you," I say back with a bitter voice.

"Fine you ungrateful b*tch! It's your fault mom died! You were such a pest anyway!" He shouts before hanging up the phone. His words felt like it pierced my heart. I still loved him but I didn't expect him to be so vulgar with me. Before I knew it I was crying. Tears pouring uncontrollably. My hands covering my face as I sat on my bed.

My brother Hugo showed up in front of me a few minutes later. I hadn't realised he was there until he placed his hand on my head. He pulled me to him, hugging me. I grabbed his shirt, sobbing. He cooed me and rubbed my back and head.

When I stopped he leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Belle, what happen? Who called?" Hugo says in a calm voice as he kneeled in front of me so he could face me. "Father, he called. He asked me to return and he insulted you guys. Then he called me a b*tch for not wanting to come home," I say to him choking on my words. He's breathing become heavy and his eyes filled with anger but he calmed down.