Miranda Gaskarth's POV

After I finished that one line I continued down to my ankle, ripping off my shoes and sock to get to it. I placed the tip of the knife at the ball of my ankle and pressed down. Sweet relief flooded into my system as the knife moved on its own.Without realizing it I’d gone to far, it reached up to my lower thigh and the cut had deepened. Pain replaced the relief.
I jumped out of my bed, threw open my door, and dragged the injured leg down the stairs. When the kitchen came to view I saw my mother sitting there like nothing from the morning changed, only the fact that she was reading a magazine now.
“What happened?! Those jeans weren't cheap!” She screeched when she saw the bloody mess. I frowned.
“I’m bleeding to death and that’s all you care about?!” I yelled, hurt evident in my voice.
“Well I don’t grow money out in the backyard, do I?” She got up and grabbed the over-sized first aid kit from the top of the fridge.
“Thanks....pass me the roll of bandages please.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, I’m your mother.” A cross look appeared on her face before she gave me the bandages. “Now you never told me what happened.”
“Don’t wanna tell.” Now she was concerned.
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Miranda Angelic Gaskarth you will tell me what happened.”
“Not until you answer me!” I yelled back, she wasn’t the boss of me.
“About what?”
“About dad and why he left you, although that’s obvious on it’s own.” I snapped, pain flashed over her face and I wondered if I took it to far. Not that I cared.
“What.....did you just say.” Her voice was shaky.
“You heard me, what about dad haven’t you told me? Hell, you haven’t told me anything!”
“Never mention him in this house Ever.” Her voice took on a dark vibe.
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Tell me, I deserve to know!” Deja vu much?
“Alright! Alex Gaskarth, a singer in a band called All Time Low.....he stayed with me long enough to give me you and that’s it....” Her voice seemed darker, but also hurt.
“So, he left you.....” Must’ve been a great guy.
“Now you tell me what happened with this cut...” She gestured to the bandaged leg.
“I get bullied at school and cut myself, been doing it forever....” I said it with so much seriousness.
“What! Why do you get bullied? Why do you cut? Why am I just now hearing about this?!” she began the whole big rant.
“Well let’s check my life huh; I never knew my dad, I get bullied because I’m bisexual, my mother could give two craps about me, and need I mention everything else.” Frankly I was running out of stuff to say.
“You’re....bisexual,” I nodded my head, “get out! Go pack some stuff and get out of here! You freak of nature!” I knew some people didn’t like bisexuals, and that my mom and I weren’t that close, but this was too far.
“What?”
“Leave! Now!” She ran over the other side of the kitchen, fear in her voice.
I cried, I started to cry, this hurt so much, my heart clenched every time I looked at her. So I did what she said, ran upstairs and pack some stuff, went back down and filled the rest of the space with food and my phone/computer charger, and ran out of the house wearing black shorts and my sleeves back on.
“This is absolutely the worst day ever.” I whispered as tears cascaded down my face.

Notes

Hey everyone, Ari here with an announcement.
Nickie is in NY and we're not sure if she'll be able to type. But she'll only be gone for two days or so. That will also give me some time to write for The Broken Rhythm, so check out that along with Nickie's one shot too!
Till the darkness completes us,
Sarah's Butterflies