Rain moves over the garden, battering the flowers which bend beneath its touch I watch a stream of water trickle down the window pane. It splashes to the ground at almost the exact same time as a tear falls upon my hand.
I rub my eyes. I'm sick of all this crying. Being sad all time. But how could anyone be happy like this?
I miss my mum so much. She's only in the next room. But to me she is not. That person next door isn't my mother anymore. My mum was always happy; she had permanent dimples because she smiled too much. But that is a stranger in the next room with her red eyes, pale faced, and her lips that are cracked and colourless. That person is full of pain. And I'm the cause of that pain.
My chest tightens, and I burrow my head into my knees. But the darkness that meets my eyes brings no comfort. Instead, it allows those horrible memories to flash inside my mind.
There I am, screaming at my mum's hunched form. Saying such awful things about how it was her fault dad l