It was
everywhere. Literally everywhere. I glanced up at the ceiling,
trying to see past the liquid pouring down my face. It was so cold,
and I was soaked to the bone, sticky and utterly disgusted.
I shuddered at the thought of
just what I was covered in. Anything was better than
this. The movies made it seem so much more... enjoyable.
I took a step towards the open
door. *Squish*. My conscience shattered as my stomach began to churn.
I took another step, but the sound was unnerving. I held onto the
counter weakly as I bent over and lost my lunch.
Mom was going to be so pissed. I
had just been so angry. I wasn't enough in her life - she was
going to marry someone else to fulfill the hole in heart. I wiped my
face with my grubby hands. That made it worse.
The door swung open and 'I can
explain' spat out of my mouth. Scratch that. I couldn't explain
this. I had just wanted her to know how I felt. This scene reflected
everything I had bottled up. Unfortunately, it had just exploded, all
at once.
Silence followed my words. Her
eyes wandered the kitchen counter, the repetitive clicking of the fan
echoing against the hollow walls. Chunks of cream were lodged in
between the blades, preventing its silent spin. Her personally
crafted ice cream wedding cake had been destroyed. Obliterated.
Icing and cream had reached every corner.
The fan forced a small movement,
chucking a scoop towards mom's face. She didn't dodge it. I
couldn't even force a chuckle, as the guilt began to sink in.
She swallowed carefully, still
not stepping into the room. "This has gotten out of hand." I
could at least agree with that.
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