Being thrown away in the garbage in a dark alleyway in London when she was only a baby, she should have died that day... But she didn't.. instead, a man saved her. He brought her in and saved her, fed her, bathed her, raised her and more importantly...
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Racing up to my room I open my window and grab a cigarette. It's the only thing that calms my nerves and helps ease anxiety and chest pain. My hands are shaky as I bring the lighter to my fag. Once I have lit it I shake my hands and click my fingers. Trying to get rid of my shaky hands. I hate feeling so weak and vulnerable. Why couldn't I be given an easy life? One with two good decent parents with a classic family home... why couldn't I have the family that you read in books? The family that you see on tv.. The family where the mother loves her daughter unconditionally. Where the mother wants to dress up her daughter and braid her hair. Where she wants to talk about boys and nonsense. Why couldn't I have that life?
Why did I get given this one? What did I do in a previous life to deserve this? What did dad do to deserve the fate he got? Why does life have to be so unfair? Gosh, do I hate life. God must hate me or something. As ungrateful and bitchy I might sound I wish so badly that I had no relatives. I wish that I got put into the foster system. My whole life I have grown up hating them. It is so easy to hate them and to blame them. But since I have been here I feel my heart doing cartwheels and my mind is constantly spinning. I don't know what the truth is and what is lies with them. Everything just seems like 180s with them. It shouldn't hurt that my so-called brothers hate me... but it does.. it shouldn't hurt that while I was growing up with nothing they grew up on a silver platter... but it does.. it shouldn't hurt that my father Vince acts and talks like my dad...but it does... it hurts the most. It hurts so much .. I hadn't felt this hurt and this pain in such a long time. I am so used to feeling numb and nothing that this feels surreal. The way he talks... the way he smiles... the way he composes himself... it just reminds me of him so much. Sure, there are differences in between him. But when I see Vince look at the boys. It was the same way dad looked at me. It shouldn't hurt me that Vince doesn't look at me like that... but it does, it hurts excoriatingly.
The smell and the taste of the tobacco feels like a safe haven drug for me. it helps the tears keep away and allows me to ignore the pain and become numb. Numb as much as it is a feeling of nothing it is a feeling that I crave...
Knock knock
I quickly try and get rid of my cigarette but before I can Alex and Milo walk in. "WHAT THE FUCK"! Milo screeches and Alex storms over and snatches the cigarette from me. "HEY! What the hell"! I glare at Milo and try to snatch my cigarette back. But Alex pushes me back onto the bed. I clutch onto my shoulder and bite my tongue. "Why the fuck are you smoking"? Milo roars his eyes darker than ever. "Breanna this is not ok! You are 15! Cigarettes can seriously hurt you". I look at them with disbelief. "You aren't the boss of me and besides I have seen all of you smoke". Vince and all the boys charge into the room and Bruno looks at me sympathetically. "What is going on"? Vince asks calmly. "Breanna was fucking smoking". Vince's eyes darken and the rest of the boys look like they are ready to bite someone's head off. "is this true Breanna"? I roll my eyes and stand up ignoring the pain in my shoulder. "So, what if it is! The rules didn't state if I could smoke or not". Vince's eyes darken and his jaw clicks as it is tightened. A large vein formed on his head and he looks like he is about to explode. He steps closer to me towering over me.
Memories of Mike swarm through me. the way he towers over me. the way he looked at me with such disgust and anguish. I step back and feel my heart breaking. "As long as you are under my roof you will never smoke again. If I ever see a cigarette in between your lips you will be more than sorry and will never step foot out of this house again". I glare at him and my jaw clenches. How dare he threaten me and tell me what to do. "You can't tell me what to do"! I grit. He looks down at me and steps another step forward. "As long as I am your father and guardian I can do as I wish". I glare at him. "You will never be my father. You should have just let me go into the foster system. It would've made us all a whole lot happier"! He looks down at me with an unreadable expressions. I don't know why but I felt something tug my heart and felt guilt swarm my stomach.
He doesn't say anything and when I was about to say something. He stormed out of the room. The boys looked at me breathily with emotionless blank expressions before walking out themselves. I don't understand. Why do I feel so guilty? Why do I feel so heartbroken and sad? Bruno looks at me and sighs heavily. "Are you ok"?
"I'm fine". But I am far from fine. I feel like my heart is going to explode out my chest and that I am going to break at any moment. "Well if you need anyone to talk to here, I am here". His voice was soft. "Thanks, but I am fine. I don't care". He looks defeated but walks out. "The offer will always stand". I hear him say before he shuts my door. Well, that was an interesting blowdown. Those stupid pricks took my cigarettes. I let out a frustrated groan and fell on the bed.
