#also this made so many assumptions i'm sorry i just tried 2 go off our talks

[justcallmemav]

7/20/18

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Pt.20

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“You didn't get along with her, so this shouldn't be affecting you this bad.”

(She saw how you treated me and wanted to adopt me.)

“You trust people too easy, girl.”

( I had known him for 13 years. I built that trust. )

“You put yourself in this situation.”

( I didn't ask for it.)

“I never liked him anyways, trash grew legs and took itself out.”

(I loved him for five years.)

▪▪   ·I love you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.

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▪▪   ·I'm at work I'll message you when I'm off. Ly2.

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▪▪   ·I could use a call right now.

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▪▪  ·Can't talk right now, will call tomorrow. You'll be fine for a day.

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▪  You're my best friend. I love you. I can't take it anymore.

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▪   I think this is it.

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▪▪▪  Thank you for always loving me unconditionally. You're the greatest sister anyone could ask for. I love you. You're better off without me.

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      You came to visit me two days after i was taken into the hospital on july 20th at 9 o'clock at night.

      I was drinking an excessive amount within the matter of two hours.

     Within the last few minutes of the second hour, I saw the walls of the world around me collapsing.

This is it.

I have nothing left.

     My mind wouldn't rest. I took a xanax but it didn't help ease my mind.

     It sure couldn't mend my broken heart.

                  This was the last time.

It didn't work before.

           It has to work now.

                          So I begged, and I cried.

I prayed to a God I wasn't even sure existed.

Please take me now.

        I want to come home.

                      I think I'm ready now.

JUST TAKE ME NOW. I AM READY. PLEASE FUCKING TAKE ME. I'M READY.

      I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I made the choice to give into my thoughts and my depression. I made the choice to finalize this shit I consider living. This existence. This truly was it. This is the end.

      I let my hands trace their way to my fate. To my drawer. Opening the pill bottle. Where the palm of my hand met my lips to fill my mouth with what I knew would make everything better soon. Next thing I know, my body was lured to the bottle of vodka as it stands at the end of the bed. I wrap my fingers tight around the neck of the bottle, lips to the glass. Down the hatch and into the rabbit hole I go. I feel my body spiral. Down...down...down...down…

                      Boom

                         So bitter.

                        Yet so good.

Was this the only way i could be happy again?

I will reach the numbness I yearn to undergo.

I've heard the rumors.

Does it seem as free as they say?

            Then along came the thump.

                       ALAS~

Nothingness.

Darkness. No voices, no pain, no criticism. Just the echoes of my heart beat.

Thump.. Thump….. Thump….

After what felt like days… the darkness fades steadily. The numbness dissolves like ice through my fingertips.

               Off in the distance I hear something. A cry? A car? A siren? A siren.

I struggle to come to consciousness.

                 I find it nearly impossible.

Then out of the blue, I hear a voice.

                A voice so faint and familiar.

After some time, I can open my eyes half way as I slip back into consciousness.

My vision is hazy. I managed to come to when I hear her voice.

“Cayley, there's some people here who need you to get up and come outside. They need to check on you.”

I see the pigments from the lights spinning on their vehicles, bouncing off of the brick walls on the outside of my home, but it's all blurry.

       I struggled to stand as I stepped through my threshold to go outside.

Who needs to talk to me? About what? Why?

I look up and see two policemen and a paramedic. I begin to hyperventilate.

“Is my dad okay?”

Ma'am, we received a call stating that you may be a harm to yourself, so I ask that you don't resist help. Are you able to follow us to the back of the ambulance, ma'am?

·I haven't done anything and I'm not a harm to myself.

·For your own safety we need to make sure that's true. We can't take risks, miss.

·I'm sorry, please ma'am let go of my arm, I don't need help. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME I AM FINE.

I hear my father talking to the police officer but couldn't make out what they were saying over dad's coworker crying and all of the sounds around me. I panicked. I heard my dad speaking once more, only this time it was directed at me.

He asked me three things.

“CAYLEY BABY WHAT’D YOU DO?”

“WHAT DID YOU TAKE?”

My hearing began to fade slowly, as I focused on the ringing gradually developing in my head. I could ever so slightly hear the walkie talkies and daddys office keys jingling in his pocket. I heard Sues charm bracelet that she loves so much.

I felt my heartbeat through my chest, as if it was trying to escape. I feel my heart rate descend,  I look up to see what was around me. Everyone was there.

I saw my father crying and shaking.

 I saw his girlfriend crying.

    I saw my father's coworker crying.

          I was embarrassed.

Yet, too weak to care.

I muttered to the medic under my breath;

“I'm ready to go. Ma'am please take me.”

I collapse, but the woman was quick to catch me. She definitely had motherly instincts. Not even 2 seconds after i collapsed, I lose consciousness.

          I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I'm being hovered by two men with papers on clipboards and the medic who stopped me from busting my ass on concrete. They're bombarding me with questions and demands.

“Your oxygen levels are low, ma'am. I need you to inhale and exhale on ten. The oxygen being distributed through the tubes in your nostrils is a bit cold. Just a fair warning. Are you physically capable of removing your tunnels, lip piercing, your engagement ring, and whatever else pierced or on your person that could be a threat to yourself of me?”

“Do I have to take off my ring?”

“Yes ma'am, unfortunately it's code. We'll put it in this bag. It will stay unbothered. Please remove your piercings.”

Shortly after I began hyperventilating because I couldn't stop crying, and boom.

All consciousness was lost.

How could I harm anyone with a ring?

She should have been patient, anyways.

~Don't rush me.~

       You asked me why I did it. It took you two days, it took my father less than 60 seconds to get to me when he saw the ambulance at the door.

       You took 48 hours to muster the pride to visit me, and when you did, you showed no emotion at all. You hugged me that day and I felt no love.

        I was barely aware of what was going on, yet I somehow sensed tension coming from your end. As if you were forcing yourself to care when deep down you knew you didn't.

I felt like I was being smothered by a well maintained, ‘JLo Glo’ scented greeting mat.

          Even when I was much younger and you would stay in and drink, you'd hug me and I felt this giant strange force field of motherly love surrounding me, if that makes any sense. There was a step by step process of your home drunk persona and it went the same way every time.. but I'll get to that in a moment.

    Anyways, I'm still thankful you showed. Even two days late. You had me slightly convinced that you actually cared.

ALMOST. I was informed of the insensitive remarks you made to my father about me.  You really had the audacity to turn around and say I was wanting everyone to be worried about CAYLEY because ‘everything has to be about CAYLEY and CAYLEY was just looking for attention'.

         Like I didn't come home from school and take two steps through the threshold only to see you crying because you got dumped. You threatened to end your life. (Because you loved this man so much. The man you are with now. 9 years later. The man you use for money. Whom you cheat on)  Me and your biological daughter took you and admitted you.

         I felt like i betrayed you, but i needed you to be alive. For...whatever reason. I guess cos y'know.. a 12 year old needs a parent. You came home and the meds they gave you calmed you down, but you liked that too much. You quickly became dependent, actually you still are. You contradict yourself too often.

         Don't you remember what I have been put through..? By you, mostly. You were and still are so hypocritical that it makes me chuckle. Sigh- anyways, I couldn't fully comprehend anything you said during our visit. I couldn't gather the energy to move nor look at you, let alone reply to your bullshit motherhood quotes.

        You left when the time was up, two weeks go by in a blur still ever so slowly, and they transfer me. People were able to reach out to me. A handful of people I love and cherish which includes my sister, my father, his girlfriend... the woman who has been more of a mother to me than you ever were.

       It didn't take much time after me being in that God forsaken inpatient facility for me to be pulled aside by a nurse in a confidential manner. My brain threw around every possible reason as to why she was doing this.

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Am I going home?

Are they moving me again?

What did I do wrong?

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  ~ Nothing, stop with the assumptions~

    She informed me that I had received multiple calls from a woman saying she is my mother but she couldn't pass it through because another woman, who ALSO claimed to be my parent/caregiver, had requested that this number (she was giving me )go on a restricted no contact list. She handed me a sheet of paper with with a number on it. Buttttt, it wasn't yours. So I had no idea what was going on. Who's my caregiver? Did my sister put you on the no call list? Nope. It wasn't your number and you never do wrong, so you denied having anything to do with that whole thing. I decided to call the number while the addiction groups were in the other room. I had no reason to be there so I had time to meditate, draw, socialize, or find out who was on the other end of that phone line.

It's obvious what I chose.

It took a few tries until someone finally answered. When they did I felt like an idiot. How could I not know.

You hated her because of how hard she tried to see me and my siblings. You had so many hateful things to say about her, yet no validation. It made you angrier when you told us about her then made her out to be a bad guy and we still got in touch with her. You hated that, didn't you. You hated it because the truth was going to come out if we found her.

Lady, I met my real mother when i was 11 years old. That was the day my father bought my favorite hat… a black fedora with a blue stripe inside of a purple stripe in the middle (which I still own). I was wearing this black shirt with a red graphic design on the front and back that was WAY too baggy on me and a pair of cuffed blue jeans, I do believe. It's been eight years, I have great memory but I'm not special like that.

If it weren't for daddy, my sister, and my brother... I would've never known who she was. Well, when I finally got ahold of my biological mother on the phone the day after I received the number by the nurse… she was genuinely upset. She said one thing that will stick to my brain for the rest of my life.

“I lost you once I can't lose you again”

You won't have to.

[ecclesiastiisms]

not to be dramatic but ❛ 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔. ❜ ─ ♡。max⇝clem.

buzzfeed sentence starters accepting !! { @suspirious​ }

clem and max have settled into an uneasy sort of truce, two former mean girls trying to pretend that crowns made of sea glass and bottle caps are just as good as silver and gold. it’d be short sighted to call them friends, but that’s the word they use when nothing else fits the antagonism unique to high school girls and PTA moms. they’ll sit on the bleachers, kombucha in one hand and cell phones in the other as they titter and gossip about boys and girls and teachers and drama that doesn’t matter outside of the world they’ve created out of lip gloss and cheerleading uniforms. it’s vapid and superficial, but it’s more comfortable than admitting anything has changed.

money and attitude dictates that clementine is the captain of the squad, both on the court and off, but she’s embraced maxine as her second-in-command, whether the brunette wants the role or not. norie settles into third place by rights of being max’s ‘ best friend ’ and the rest come tumbling after, scraping and scrambling for a better spot in the hierarchy. it’s a bloody battle waged in release day make up and seasonally trendy shoes, but it’s more pleasant by far than the other wars they have to fight. at least this one has winners─at least not all of the participants are damned from the start.

but, like any good gladiator battle, there are rules to the fight, rules that no one is supposed to break.

1. never break decorum, even when you’re broken and beaten2. never let them see your weakness, no matter how much you trust your waterproof mascara3. only play dirty when no one can see the blood under your fingernails4. don’t let anyone else see the fight; this is a battle for the fighters, not the spectators5. be as cruel as you can manage, but know where the line between cruelty and abuse is drawn.6. most importantly─no matter what, never acknowledge the life behind the glamour shots and bullying

right in that moment, maxine bronte has broken the final and most crucial rule of them all and the silence between the her and the red-headed queen bee is so deafening it would put a jet engine to shame. it’s not that the statement is false; if anything, it’s the reality of just how true it is that makes the words bury themselves in her like daggers. all one has to do is do a quick google search to see how fake her demeanor is, the reasons behind her bangles and how much of her hair is nothing more than an illusion. clementine sterling is a psycho mess, anyone can tell you, but it’s bad manners to actually acknowledge that in this kingdom of hers. 

fake nails tap unhappily against the solid surface of the gym floor and there’s a sharp wave of relief at the fact that they’re sitting alone instead of with her usual entourage of giggling sycophants.❝ a mask ??❞ her tone is terse, perfectly white teeth grinding together behind red lipstick.❝ what ?? like a fucking hockey mask like one of those dumbass horror movies ??❞ distract, disarm and fight back─ she knows this game well and she’s played it in much more dangerous environments than cheer practice. she needs the pressure off of her and onto max, no matter what that takes.❝ i know you’re nuts and like to see killers in perfectly innocent people so you can play the damsel in distress, but don’t drag me into your little game of play pretend. stick to accusing weird horror freaks, alright ?? i don’t wanna be stuck in a courtroom watching you fake cry for months like that poor weirdo. ❞