Torn 🤎 (Completed)

Chapter 11: The Aftermath

Mia💛

Right now, my PTSD was triggered and I was having a hard time controlling my emotions. I had no doubt that the alcohol in my system also played a big part in how emotional I was feeling.

Flashbacks from the night Michael died kept reappearing in my head and I couldn't make the images stop! Clear images of the panicked police officer placing his hand on his gun were all too real as if I were living in that exact moment 11 years earlier.

I could hear the confused and desperate cries from my nephew who didn't even realize the significance of what he'd just witnessed.

I could feel the overwhelming fear gripping my senses and suffocating me as I watched  my brother desperately try to calmly convince the law officer that he wasn't dangerous. It wasn't fair that, even though my brother wasn't the trained professional in that situation, he felt compelled to do his best to calm the officer.

But at the end of the day, none of that would've happened if Amy just... if she just... urgh I couldn't even say it. I wish he'd never met that woman. It wasn't fair and I think the hardest thing for me to grasp was knowing that Mike didn't have to die!

Thinking back to what Harper said, how dare that bitch taunt me like that as if her words didn't have consequences. Harper had no fucking clue what I'd been through and yet she mocked me.

There was no doubt in my mind that if I saw Harper right now, I would slap that bitch again and again! The tears kept streaming down my face and I turned away from the crowd of people that just witnessed my melt down. Wiping at my cheeks,  I tried to control myself just enough so that I could perform the breathing routines my therapist taught me when I found myself in situations like this.

I felt a gentle hand on my back and I couldn't help my instinctual flinch as I glanced up at the perpetrator. It was Zane and, although I knew he was there to probably assist me, I immediately shoved his hands off of me.

I was torn by the fact that I could tell that Zane was a great guy who was genuinely trying to help me... but in my mind he was also the enemy. In my mind, all white people only did shit when it benefited them. I mean look at history? Who are the people who ruthlessly murder and conquer for their own gain. It only proved my point.

Zane was here to comfort me but I didn't know if I wanted it from him. Why would I want to stick around long enough to see Zane switch on me, like Amy did, and fuck me over?

Urgh, I was drunk, tired, and I knew the thoughts in my head were irrational. I tried to remember what my therapist said about judging people based off of their merit and their actions and to not just make a blanket statement regarding an entire group of people. But it was hard for me to rationalize with my emotions running so high. I was still hyped up and I needed to lash out at anyone and anything that crossed my path!

I took one look at Zane and scowled at him. Here comes Mr. White knight to the rescue, trying to save my black ass. Well I didn't need him or any of this shit! I pushed past Zane and ran outside, ignoring the curious looks of everyone I passed by. Fuck all them! They didn't know me or my struggle!

As I was about to exit the house, from the corner of my eyes I could see my brothers back turned to me while he comforted that conniving bitch! Watching him trying to reassure her only fueled my anger. Joshua would rather comfort a total stranger than his sister. What was wrong with him? The way he sympathized with caucasian people baffled my goddamn mind and made me sick.

It scared me to know that he could follow right behind in our older brother's footsteps if he weren't careful. And by the looks of it he was pretty close to heading down that path. Did he not learn anything from Mike being murdered? How can he keep his heart so open and unguarded?