“You think I care?” I ask, looking her up and down. “Because I don’t. I always knew you were a bitch, Elizabeth. But now you’re a raging cunt and I want nothing more to do with you. Leave this property before I call the cops on you for trespassing.”
I’m out of breath by the time I say all of that to her, but what I expect in return doesn’t come, instead a sharp pain dulls my cheek and when I look up, I realize she’d slapped me across the face.
I gasp lifting my hand to soothe the pain. What the fuck? She’d hit me before—only once—not that that’s an excuse, but I never thought she’d have the nerve to do it again.
“Get the fuck off my property, Elizabeth,” Dad growls, taking a step forward. “How dare you hit my daughter!”
“Nothing she didn’t deserve.” Elizabeth responds with a shrug, looking as far from apologetic as you could possibly get.
Dad grips her arm, making her cry out in pain. But did I feel sympathy for her? Ha, did I fuck. I watch as he shoves her down the gravel drive until they’re standing by her car and then he pushes her, making her fall to the ground, and cry out even more.
He’s shouting at her, but I can’t quite seem to figure out what he’s saying. With how hard she slapped me, my ears are ringing.
My chest feels tight, and I could barely breathe.
Breathe, Lilly.
Collapsing to the ground, my breath come out in short, frantic gasps.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Looking down at my hands, they shake uncontrollably as I try my hardest to breathe. I tried to steady myself, but the panic is too overwhelming. It feels like I’m drowning, like my head was just below the surface and I was trying to reach out to grasp a sliver of oxygen.
Breathe, Lilly.
The 5-4-3-2-1 rule runs through my mind.
Five things I can see…my hands, the gravel, dad’s car, my car, and the rose bush.
Four things I can touch…the rails on the stairs, the front door, the hammock on the porch, and the gravel.
Three things I can hear…dad shouting at Elizabeth, the gravel crunching, and my heartbeat.
Two things I can smell…vanilla, and Sabrina’s perfume.
One thing I can taste…copper.
“Hey, hey, sweetie,” Sabrina’s soft voice filters through my ears. Her arms wrap around me, and her thumb soothes over my damp cheeks. “Lilly, sweetie.”
Fuck, when did Istart crying? And why does my mouth taste like blood?
“Hey, breathe, Lilly. Breathe,” she takes a deep breath in, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it. “Follow my lead, okay, sweetie?”
I can’t speak, but I nod, following the movements of her breathing.
My chest feels tight, like someone is squeezing the life out of me.
I’m so pathetic.
So, so, so fucking pathetic.
But Sabrina, whose been more a mom to me than Elizabeth ever was, always knows how to calm me in a panic. She and dad met the year following his divorce with Elizabeth, and I’m forever thankful she’s the mother figure I look up to.
“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing good.” Her hand interlocks with mine and she squeezes tight.
“Baby,” Dad’s large figure wraps around both Sabrina and me, his large hand rubbing down my back, trying to console me. “Breathe, Lil, you’re okay. We’re here. Daddy is here darling, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
I sob uncontrollably.
