Trust [a. irwin]

twenty-one

I haven't gotten out of bed all day, I don't want to, I don't have energy to.

Ashton has called many times today, but I only answered once. He just wants to go out somewhere.

"Emma!" Ashton yells.

"Fuck, what is he doing here." I mutter, trying to hide under my blanket.

He comes into my room and sits on the other side of my bed.

"Emma, hey." He calls.

I sigh, turning over to face him.

"What's wrong?" He asks. "You were crying, why were you crying?"

"It doesn't matter." I mumble.

"Yes, Emma, it does."

"I was crying last night, after I stopped crying Britney made me cry again, this morning I just woke up sad and cried again. Whatever."

"Okay, what did Britney say?" He asks.

"It's just that she was complaining about her mom. She said she hated her mom, how her mom should just leave her. I just fucking wish I had a mom. Fuck, I act like a baby about this. I just cry over my mom being dead when it's been eighteen years."

"No, it's okay. You're allowed to be upset over it."

"I guess I can be upset considering it's my fault so I feel like shit about it." I mumble.

"It's not your fault."

I bitterly chuckle, "No matter how many times somebody tells me it isn't my fault, I'll never believe it."

"Why not?"

"Fuck, Ashton. I'm not going to believe you. I am the reason she's dead."

"Do you miss her like this often?" He asks.

I roll my eyes, "You're just full of questions aren't you?"

"Sorry." He mumbles. "I want you to tell me everything. I want to know."

I take a deep breath, "Can I? Can I tell you everything that I can remember from my life that has to do with my mom?"

"Of course you can. Em, I'm always here."

"Okay... Wh- when I was younger I never really said much about not having a mom around. Going to school at first, I remember being confused. We would talk about our families and everybody seemed so excited to talk about their mom and dad, plus their siblings. I didn't know what to do at that point. I didn't have a brother or sister, or even a mom for that matter. It had me questioning what happened and where my mom was. So being the curious kid I was when I got home I asked my dad. He straight up told me she passed away and was in a better place. I accepted that answer and never thought much about it." I start, not looking up at Ashton at all.

I can feel his eyes on me, I know he's staring at me, waiting for me to look up at him. But I can't face him while trying to tell him about this.

"Then once I was around ten I had found a photo album in my dad's room. It was all pictures of me and him only. Obviously I don't remember anything from when I was a few years old so I had thought my mom was still alive then. But showing by the pictures, she wasn't. That day when my dad came home I put the photo album away and didn't bring it up until maybe a week later. I remember asking him, 'What happened to my mom? Why isn't she here? How did she die?' All the questions just flowing from my head out of my mouth, completely shocking my father. He told me something happened when I was born, and she passed. He didn't say too much considering I was ten and he looked like he was going to cry."

I take a deep breath, "Around a year later, that was when I realized it was my fault. Throughout that year I was constantly thinking of my mom and what could've happened, I didn't clue in. When it finally clicked in my head I sat up on my bed and whispered 'It's my fault' and cried. I cried for literally an hour before my dad heard me. He held me tightly trying to get me to calm down. I just couldn't. I wouldn't tell him what happened even though he kept asking. Finally I told him saying, 'It's my fault mom is dead.' He ended up crying with me, telling me it's not my fault, it never was and never will be. I went to school the next day and I was just so upset. My friends were giving me looks and questioning me. I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't do anything. It was horrible. It's what triggered my depression and anxiety."

I let out a shaky breath, just thinking about some of this. This is horrible.

"One of the worst things that had to do with my mom was when I was thirteen. My dad was really drunk, he had a shitload of what alcohol we had at our house, which I also blamed myself for because I was so hard to deal with being so sad all the time. He came into my room and it happened. 'You're the reason she's dead. She got pregnant with you, something happened, you got to live and she died. She should've been the one to live. You should've been the one to not make it, not her. I still love her so much. You're just a depressed teenager who nobody will ever love. You don't even have a mom to love you. And it's all your fault.' I cut for the first time that night. I wanted to die. I wanted to die so badly. At thirteen years old, I wanted to die. I never thought that my own dad, who always loved and cared for me would say anything like that, ever. I was also so scared of myself. I never thought I would want to end my own life, or that a person could be that sad." I quietly continue, trying to hold in sobs.

"I remember that right after I cut I had thrown up. I don't know why. My anxiety was through the fucking roof then. That's when I knew how bad anxiety could get. I ended up falling asleep on the floor that night. I woke up on the bathroom floor, confused at first. I looked in the mirror and I remember being so pale. I looked like a different person. I brought one of my hands up to my face and my lip started to tremble before crying again, remembering the previous night. My dad acted like it never happened, maybe he didn't remember. So I went along pretending it didn't. That happened one more time a few months later, but not as bad. It has happened a few times actually, but he's never gotten that drunk since."

"Most of my life has been pain. A lot of it having to do with my mom and my fucking mental problems. It's so hard to talk about. I don't know how I'm saying it to you right now. Especially not knowing you for very long. I just feel like I can kinda trust you now. I feel like you're the only one I can talk to. I feel... I feel like you care. You make me feel something different, something I can't explain. I put so much trust in you by telling you, which is giving me the worst anxiety. I always feel like everybody is always going to leave me. Like they're never going to stay. And I know you have to leave at the end of the summer but with you... Everything is so different."

I finally look up at him, and he's staring at me, holing in tears.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, reaching out for my hands.

"Not my hands." I mumble, pulling my hands away.

He just frowns and wipes tears from his eyes.

I move over to him, sitting on his lap and I wrap my arms around him and cry.

He just holds onto me tightly, quietly sniffling.

"Everybody leaves, nobody stays. Why are you still here?"

"Why would I leave?" He quietly chokes out.

"I'm so fucked up. Please don't leave. I know you'll have to actually leave in just over a month, but please don't forget me. Don't leave me."

"I never will, I promise." He whispers.

But promises are meant to be broken, right?

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hiiii I love u guys