Chapter 31 The Past #2
It all felt surreal. Despite everything I had endured in the past few years, I had made it. I had done this on my own, without my mother’s support. She had chosen her drugs over me, sinking into the depths of a restless loch from which I could not rescue her.
There were moments I wanted to give up. But I didn’t. I had survived, and I was damn proud of that.
Yet I still yearned for Lillian. I needed my big sister, but she was long gone.
As I approached her door, I peeked inside once more. She lay on her bed, eyes closed, lost in sleep. I snorted derisively. Typical. She would rather catch up on rest than witness her daughter graduate.
Turning away, the dejection hung heavily in the air. A growing sadness clawed at me. I wanted my mom back, to see her cheer and clap as I received my diploma.
But that moment was lost to me. This only happened once, yet there was no support to be found.
This would likely be one of the last times I would see Caiden, and strangely, that thought brought me a glimmer of happiness.
I was tired of living in fear and grief; it was an exhausting existence. When I finally left, I would leave all my memories behind. A fresh start, devoid of anguish, worries, and visions of death.
I paced back and forth outside my mother’s room, glancing inside Lillian’s once more. The room, stripped bare and covered in sheets, felt like a ghost town. Dust collected in the corners, and a shiver crawled down my spine.
Home no longer felt like home. It felt like a graveyard, a mausoleum for my lost loved ones.
In the moments leading up to my departure, I wrestled with my emotions, caught between wanting her to be there and knowing I lacked the words to express it.
Eventually, I surrendered to the moment and left.
The school parking lot brimmed with families, laughter and excited chatter swirling around me. My heart sank a little, a bitter tang of jealousy rising like a dark shadow within me.
I imagined my sister crawling from the grave, running toward me with open arms, or my mother arriving to mend my shattered heart.
But they were mere daydreams, and the reality deepened my pain. I craved belonging, familiarity, love.
Yet, with every breath I took, that hope withered.
After shoving my way through the crowd, scowling at mothers and daughters who seemed so blissfully unaware, I finally reached the designated area.
As the moment arrived for us to line up toward our seats, cameras flashed, and names were called out. Various speeches filled the air, some inspired me, while others left me bored.
Finally, they began calling names. It felt like an eternity under the sun, its rays beating down on us mercilessly.
When my name finally echoed across the field, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. Some people cheered, some clapped, but there was no excitement in their actions that resonated with me.
I scanned the crowd, hoping to spot my mother, but there was nobody there who cared about me.
For a fleeting second, though, I thought I saw Lillian’s face among the throng, staring blankly at me. The same sensation I had felt outside her room washed over me.
As the principal congratulated me, I thanked him and descended the steps.
My eyes found Caiden’s. I held my head high, attempting to project strength, as if to prove I didn’t need anyone.
But it was all a facade. My mother’s absence mattered. It mattered deeply.
This could be the last time I saw Caiden.
After today, everything would change. But I couldn’t settle for peace without confronting him.
I had to say something; I had to see if he felt even a hint of remorse. He was human; he had feelings. He must feel something.
I was a tiger, restless and tense, my breath hot in the confines of the cage, poised to spring.
Eventually, the ceremony concluded. People dispersed, uniting with families and friends, but I remained alone.
I searched frantically for Caiden, pushing my way through the dense throngs of graduates and their jubilant families, each step propelled by a potent mix of grief, pain, and simmering anger.
Memories surged like a relentless tide.
Finding Lillian’s lifeless body, witnessing my mother slipping into her own abyss of despair, and enduring years of torment at Caiden’s hands.
Finally, I spotted him, isolated from the laughter and chatter of a few friends. An opportunity presented itself; he was alone and unaware, and I felt like a predator zeroing in on my prey.
“Caiden!” I shouted, my voice slicing through the cacophony like a blade.
He turned, his features clouded with confusion as I closed the distance between us, my stride fueled by determination and raw emotion.
“What’s wrong with you, huh?” I demanded, shoving his chest with trembling hands, my entire body shaking with a volatile cocktail of rage and despair.
“Fuck off, Amelia,” he replied, his tone dark and dismissive, but I refused to back down.
“Are you really going to leave without saying sorry? You killed my sister, and you have nothing to say?” My words were accusing, each one a dagger aimed at his conscience.
“Sorry for what? She did that to herself,” he retorted with chilling indifference.
“Oh really? What about all the times you bullied me?” My voice rose to a scream, oblivious to the stares of those around us, the bystanders who had become an unwitting audience to my unraveling.
He sighed, rubbing his face with an air of exasperation, as if I were nothing more than a bothersome fly.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for, Amelia,” he said, his words void of any trace of remorse.
“God forbid King Caiden looks weak in public. How about you go to my sister’s grave and admit you messed up?”
“I’d rather not,” he replied, his tone casual and indifferent.
I searched his eyes for any flicker of regret, any sign that he felt something, anything. Surely, he couldn’t be that heartless.
“You’re an asshole,” I spat, my voice raw with emotion.
“Yeah? And you’re an annoying bitch,” he shot back, his expression remaining as blank and emotionless as a stone.
“If you feel that way, then why did you kiss me and touch me that day when you were drunk? When you showed up at my house.”
I was shaking with fury as I stared him down.
Caiden snapped his head towards me. “You want to know why? I wanted to test my hatred for you, and I wanted to see what Dante saw in you. I wanted to see why the fuck he thought you were worth ruining his friendship with me. I wanted to fucking ruin you, to break you.”
“Did it work?” I asked.
“Yeah. I do fucking hate you. I don’t know why the fuck Dante likes you and why he risked it all to be with you.” Caiden stared at me with an expression of pure deadliness and rage.
“I hope you rot,” I whispered, my words carried away on the wind like a forlorn wish.
“Real mature, Amelia,” he said with a sneer, turning to walk away.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” I screeched, my voice cracking with fury.
In a fit of desperation, I tore off one of my heels and hurled it at him, following suit with the other, heedless of the wide-eyed stares from the growing crowd.
I must have looked like a woman unhinged, a spectacle of raw emotion laid bare in the open.
“Piece of shit!” I yelled, watching him disappear into the sea of people, my shoes lying abandoned and dirty on the ground.
In that moment, I blamed him for everything.
I hadn’t received my apology, and now I felt like a fool –
Barefoot and humiliated.
My last shred of dignity lay in walking through the crowd without collapsing into a whirlwind of tears.
It hurt to know he didn’t care enough to say sorry. It hurt that my mother wasn’t here to comfort me, to assure me that everything would be okay.
What was wrong with him? Could he be the devil in disguise?
I left the school, refusing to look back. Instead of driving home, I headed to the park near my neighborhood. Once free from his presence, the weight of my actions settled on me.
“Why do I always do that?” I muttered to myself, feeling pathetic as I sank beneath a tree. I watched the swings sway in the wind, creaking with emptiness, like the void inside me.
I didn’t cry. I thought I would, but nothing came.
“I’m sorry, Lillian,” I whispered, feeling like I had let her down. I couldn’t even manage to extract an apology from Caiden.
Perhaps if my mother had apologized, Lillian would have returned home, and we wouldn’t be trapped in this dismal reality.
Her spirit would always haunt me, her voice echoing in my dreams.
Closing my eyes, I let myself drift away like a leaf. In this moment, I longed to run alongside wolves, feeling connected to their souls as they searched for a place to call home. I wished to soar with doves, to flutter my lovely feathers.
I wished to be anywhere but here.
I could leave and forget all of this. Caiden would become a lost memory. Who cared if he didn’t care? All that mattered was right here, right now. Everything had happened, and I could not control the stitches of time.
My sister was dead; there was a hole in my heart, and my mother may as well have been dead too. I wondered what she was doing, perhaps sitting by her window, lost in her drugs? I envisioned driving up to my house, seeing her haunted reflection in the glass.
Sitting there, I cleared my head and sank into a warm paradise.
I would survive. I would thrive. I repeated the mantra to myself. Caiden did not matter. Nobody was to blame. I had to keep telling myself that; otherwise, I would be pointing fingers for the rest of my life.
The thought of Caiden made my blood boil, but I had to release that anger if I wanted to live a happy, stable life.
Hatred was like love, yet the opposite. It’s an intense, blazing sensation that bubbled within and consumed.
Love illuminated like a star, making you a better, happier person.
Hatred was a swirling, maddening darkness, a never-ending storm. They were opposites, yet they sat side by side, balanced on a thin line, ready to collide.
Hatred is as fragile as crackling fire or thin glass. It burned and built, capable of breaking you.
In the wrong hands, it spiraled out of control, igniting a need for revenge.
It was acceptable to hate those who tormented you, bullied you, and made your life miserable.
One thing I knew was that karma existed.
Someday, Caiden would reap what he had sown. He would feel the same pain and hurt I had endured. And when that day arrived, I would finally find peace, content in the knowledge that he hadn’t won. That he had felt the same anguish I carried.
My consuming hatred would never fade, even beyond death, for like love, hatred lasted an eternity.
I stood up, smoothed my dress, and drove back toward home, a shadowy silhouette against the brightness of the day.