I nod my head in acknowledgement.
“Alright, make sure you get something to eat. Cook made a ton of food,” he says as he slaps me on the back and heads out of the room.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but the numb feeling takes over me and I feel the tension leave my shoulders.
I don’t listen to the voices around me. I’m barely even aware when my father and a few brothers and Old Ladies speak about what a great woman Stacey was.
Every time I feel like my heart is cracking, I take another shot.
Ella tells stories that she had with Stacey. My dad said that she was a daughter to him, and brothers comment on how a she had always found a way to make them laugh.
I don’t notice that tears are falling down my face until my mom comes to wipe them.
I turn my head when I realize what she’s doing.
“Don’t,” I mutter lowly.
“Oh sweetie. It’s okay. I know you are hurting and I wish I could take this pain away,” she says in a voice filled with pain.
“You don’t know,” I reply coldly.
“I know that sweetheart, but I understand,” she says as I meet her eyes.
“No, you don’t understand. You can’t understand. Dad’s right here. You have the love of your life and you get to wake up every day knowing that they are there. I get to wake up every day living the worst nightmare that I can’t ever seem to escape. She’s gone and she’s not coming back. I had to stand there and watch the building go up in flames as my woman died chained to a fucking wall. Don’t tell me you fucking understand. No one does,” I say harshly, and maybe too harshly, but I can’t seem to think straight and the words won’t stop pouring out.
“That’s enough, son,” my dad says in a cold tone.
He walks up behind my mom and wraps her in his arms.
“I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anyone’s pity,” I say as I grab a random bottle and head to my room at the club. There is no way I can drive right now.
I slam the door to my room shut and I’m thankful that no one follows me. I’m glad I have a stereo in here. I turn the music up loud as I place the bottle to my lips.
Fuck this day.
Chapter Ten
Camilla
I spend the day trying to find things to keep myself busy. I knew that it was an important day for the Vicious Snakes since Ella had told me that it had been a year since Stacey was killed.
I didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, so I didn’t message anyone and, as much as I wanted to send Tyson a silly picture, I knew that I shouldn’t. He wouldn’t have appreciated it today.
I had thought a lot about what my friends had said when they were here, and I knew that I needed to find something to do. I needed to do more than sit at home.
My mom had brought me a bunch of school brochures, and papers full of places that were hiring. I knew that I needed to find a hobby or job.
We were taking more and more trips outside because I wanted to get used to being around people again. I feel like each time has become easier.
I still don’t think that I’m fully ready for a job, but maybe I could find some sort of online learning or a class that I could go to a couple times a week.
I had looked through everything and tried to think about what interested me. I wasn’t the same woman I was before I was taken.
I looked into writing classes. I wanted to do something that would help me. Since being back, I have written a lot. I have so many filled out notebooks in my room from writing out so many memories and emotions. I find that writing it all down was a way to release the poison from my body and mind.
It was a habit that I learned to pick up.
I told my mom that I wanted to join a class to improve my writing and thought about writing a book.
Writing was something that always interested me, but the idea scared me. At this point, however, I feel like I have nothing to lose.
My whole day is spent writing down ideas of what I would like to write about and plot stories that interest me.
I really only leave my room to have supper and get back to plotting. I’m more interested than I thought I would be.
I have everything set by the time I go to bed and I check my phone to make sure that I don’t have anything missed from my friends even though I know that they had a busy day.
I just see a message from Krista telling me that Torch had blew up at his mom and is now getting drunk in his room. When I see unread messages from him, I ponder as to whether I should open them or not.
If he’s drunk right now then what he has to say can’t be that good. Especially if he was angry enough to snap at his mom.
Curiosity gets the better of me and I start reading them.
Tyson: I snapped at my mom and I’m sitting in my room at the club trying to drink away at the pain that’s crushing at my chest. Why can’t I move on? You probably don’t want to hear this depressing talk from me, but I just don’t know how to move forward anymore.
Tyson: I miss her so fucking much.
Tyson: I wasn’t sure if I believed in love until
