contains
emotional abuse
verbal abuse
mental illness
mentions of attempted suicide
mentions of suicide
drug use
gaslighting
mentions of self harm
mentions of eating disorders
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The week passed, and it was now Friday. I had spent the entire week at Jean's, not wanting to go back home. I did let my mom know that I was staying at a friends house, being sure not to tell her which friend, afraid that she'd probably have a police squad sent after me or something. I hadn't talked to my mom in almost an entire week, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Throughout the week I regularly went to me meeting and attended school. Eren didn't talk to me at our meetings. He'd just casually meet my gaze. It was weird for him not to talk to me, it's almost like he had nothing else to say or something. It was bothering me how he was talking his ass off, and now he doesn't want to talk to me at all.

Jean had agreed to let me stay at his house for a week up until the weekend. So since it was Friday, that meant I had to go back home. I already knew what was going to happen when I got home, me and my mom were going to argue. Both of us would probably get into a heated argument, and it'd get so bad to the point where I'd lock myself in my room and just think. What I meant by "think" was contemplating ways of which I was a failure and rethink my entire life. I'd end up getting depressed and allow my anger to over cloud me. It regularly happened when I got into arguments with my family. Those times were when I'd need to talk to someone, because it meant that I was being swallowed by my depression again. I'd sit in my rooms for hours or days after arguments with my parents, usually crying. So I guess you could say that after arguing with my parents that meant I'd more likely attempt suicide again. It was a normal occurrence for me, something that regularly happened. I didn't know for what reason, that I'd always turn to suicide as the answer, but I always did.

The weed helped calm me down a bit, after being released from the hospital things did seem to be a little better. I still thought of suicide, and got depressed, but I didn't think about it as much. I thought for a second that maybe I was getting better, healing even, but I always turned out to be wrong. I knew that after this whole ordeal, that the relationship with me and my mom would be worse. I knew that more thank likely, I'd end up becoming depressed again. I hated feeling that way, so I used weed, I used it as a way to become happy, a way for all my problems to go away. Weed its self was a problem, it was a problem to my mom. My mom made a lot of my decisions. She was the one who contributed to how I almost always felt. I hated myself for making my mom out to be the bad guy, but she was the one who made me this way in the first place.

I packed up my things and began driving my way to my house. I was scared, more scared than I've ever been in my life. I didn't want the relationship between my mom and I to deteriorate. It was all my fault all of it. I couldn't cry, I couldn't make myself out to be weak in front of her. When I got to my house, I left my things in the car and just made my way to the door. I knew I was going to have to give some half ass apology, one I didn't really mean. I would only apologize, to make her feel at ease, to make my apology seem real. Truth was I was a little bit sorry, I was only sorry because that meant there was one less person in my life. It meant there was one more person who I couldn't talk to, one more person who couldn't comfort me.

I opened the door, and into the kitchen. My mom wasn't in the kitchen, but she was at the house. I walked up stairs and into her room. Dad wasn't here, he worked nights, so she was alone. I opened her door, to find her in her bed crying. I stood awkwardly at the door. I didn't dare say anything, I'd play these things off by acting cocky, which really wasn't the time. I decided to stay quite, not wanting to say anything, only speaking when I felt it was appropriate. I usually wore a bored expression when it came to these kinds of things, this time it was different. This time my actual emotions did matter. I knocked on the door, allowing her to know I was here. I propped myself up against a wall, across from her bed. The silence was beginning to become a little too loud, a little too much. She started talking. Her voice was hoarse, I could tell she had been crying.

"Where have you been? I was worried about you, y/n I thought you were dead. Do you know how much I worry about you? I worry about you too damn much, with you and your fucked up head, I don't know which to worry about more."

I stayed silent and allowed her to continue. I knew one sorry wasn't going to cut it.

"You've been gone for an entire week, and all I get is a text saying you're staying with a friend. You stayed with someone who I probably didn't even know. Why didn't you just come home? you skipped school, I thought this year was going to be different.
I thought that maybe you'd actually care, this is your last year of highschool. I highly doubt you're even going to be able to go to college now, you understand that right? If you don't go to college or do something productive, I will kick you out. I'm not playing games with you anymore."

"I allow you to have your freedom. I allow you to do what you want. You've taken advantage of the privileges I've given you. Do you even care about how much it hurts me? Do you care about anyone but yourself?"

"You're selfish, I'm embarrassed to even call you my daughter. I wanted a daughter who was kind, one that at least cares about her own mother, that isn't you. You changed, changed into someone who I don't want to be around. You changed into someone who I can't even recognize as my own daughter."

"Now you just stand there and say nothing. Pathetic."

"No I'm sorry? Nothing, wow. I can't believe you."

"I'm sorry, that I did what I did. I'm sorry mom."

"I don't even want to look at you, go. Maybe it was a bad idea for you to come home."

I walked out of her room and closed the door. This wasn't the first time she'd ever said something like this, anytime she was angry she'd commonly say stuff about how I disappointed her. I failed her, that's all I knew. Hell, I failed everyone.

I got into my car and allowed myself to cry. I wasn't going to bother anyone else with my problems, I wasn't going to allow people to see me cry. As much as I did need someone, I'd only be a burden. Jean had invited me to a party earlier, which meant it was something to take my mind off of everything for just a minute. I didn't regularly go to parties, but being around other people helped take my mind off my problems.

I shot Jean a text telling him I was coming to the party, and that I didn't need a ride.

The party wasn't till eight, and it was currently four.

I didn't feel like eating, I didn't feel like doing much of anything actually. I knew I had to eat. I hadn't ate since yesterday.

Why not just let myself starve?

It's not like I hadn't tried that method before, which would end up failing. I had decided on not eating. I didn't necessarily self harm like a lot of other people, I'd go days without eating. I did it as a punishment of sorts, for feeling depressed. I felt that the hurt I put on others, I also deserved.

I sat in my car for a couple of minutes, asking myself what to do. I couldn't tell anyone, not wanting to be a burden. I had no options. I was left puzzled. I need something to do, something to do at least until the party. I decided on getting high. It'd leave me feeling great for a couple of hours.

All I did for the past couple of hours was smoke in an empty parking lot, in the middle of nowhere. I checked my phone to see it was eight meaning not only had the party already started but, I had to go home and get changed. I didn't care if my mom knew I was high, I didn't care about anything. I drove to my house, to see my moms car was no longer here. She left, which meant I could peacefully go in the house.

I decided on some sweats and an oversized shirt. I didn't feel like dressing up. I got in the car and drove to Jean's. There weren't as many people as last time. I parked my car and made my way into the house. I was already high off of my ass and the loud music wasn't helping for shit. Somehow I had managed to make my way into the kitchen, everyone was either drinking or smoking. I spotted Jean and made my way over to him

I stayed silent and just nudged him.

"Oh y/n, you made it. I thought you weren't going to come, since the party already started. Good to see you, though."

I hummed in acknowledgment.

"Not feeling like talking or something?"

"Something like that."

He eyed me curiously, to which I just lifted a brow.

"Are you high?"

"Yeah."

"Really? You already pregamed, that's not fair." I didn't say anything.

I just stood there. Jean kept looking at me like he was concerned. He drank, while I just stood there. I didn't like alcohol. It wasn't my thing. I made my way outside, not saying a word to anyone.

I didn't even know why I came to this party, if I was just going to not talk the entire time. It started to make me feel left out, uncomfortable. I took a seat outside on Jeans porch. I felt a presence occupy the space beside me. I didn't bother looking to see who it was. Like I said, I didn't care. The person began to speak.

"Love, what's wrong?"
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A/N:
sorry for making these past couples chapters a little depressing. I actually almost cried making this chapter, because it's literally the exact same shit my mom has said to me. I usually use these chapters where y/n has strong emotion, as my way to vent. I don't only use it as a way to vent tho, I also use it for character development. I'm going to be posting a couple chapters, more than often, because you guys deserve it. Thank you all !