Miranda
Anne
"Did she tell you?" Ryan asked, "She told you she was pregnant?" I really had nothing to say to him, "How could she tell you, but not me? I'm the father!"
Why is he talking to me when he should be talking to her?
"I'm going to be a father, sixteen year old dad. You have to help me Anne. There's no way I can do it on my own."
They're putting too much pressure on me. Taking too much anger on me. Depending on me too much. How could i not see this coming? How did I end up as monkey in the middle?
"Shit! Anne! Talk to me, please! You're always so damn quiet, what the hell are you thinking about? what is more important in your head right now than what's going on?"
I can't take it anymore. Its always about them. Ryan loving Miranda. Her him hating him. Pregnancy. Stress for me. My head is exploding with ideas of how to end this., but I won't. I just need to get away from the both of them for a while.
I get up form my bed, and walk past him and go out my room. Downstairs and past my mom tending to my sick grandmother, surprised she isn't dead yet. And once I'm outside, I'm not really sure where I'm going, but I just have to be faraway from Ryan. As I'm outside on the sidewalk, Ryan pulls on my wrist, bringing me to face him.
"Where the fuck are you going?" He says through clenched teeth.
"Away from you!" I yell, feel like I'm about to lose it.
"I need your help!"
"You and Miranda both need my help?" I yelled, "All you guys do is yell at me and drive me crazy!"
"I need you Anne!"
"I don't care Ryan. Fuck off, both of you!"
"Anne, please don't talk to me like that. You know how-"
"Shut-up, for once, I need to be by myself!"
"Anne, seriously, don't-"
"Shut-up you fucking ra-" The next thing I know I saw the backside of his hand, immediate pain in my mouth. I fall to ground, glaring at that monster, regret in his eyes. I get up and run back in my house. I go upstairs in the bathroom. I don't even think, I just do. I go in the medicine cabinet and look for any razors, can't find any. I catch my reflection in the mirror. Half of my face is swollen. I go downstairs again, and into the kitchen and grab a really sharp knife and run back upstairs. Back into the bathroom, I feel myself loosing a grip on everything I thought was real and I suddenly have a really hard time breathing.
Why is he talking to me when he should be talking to her?
"I'm going to be a father, sixteen year old dad. You have to help me Anne. There's no way I can do it on my own."
They're putting too much pressure on me. Taking too much anger on me. Depending on me too much. How could i not see this coming? How did I end up as monkey in the middle?
"Shit! Anne! Talk to me, please! You're always so damn quiet, what the hell are you thinking about? what is more important in your head right now than what's going on?"
I can't take it anymore. Its always about them. Ryan loving Miranda. Her him hating him. Pregnancy. Stress for me. My head is exploding with ideas of how to end this., but I won't. I just need to get away from the both of them for a while.
I get up form my bed, and walk past him and go out my room. Downstairs and past my mom tending to my sick grandmother, surprised she isn't dead yet. And once I'm outside, I'm not really sure where I'm going, but I just have to be faraway from Ryan. As I'm outside on the sidewalk, Ryan pulls on my wrist, bringing me to face him.
"Where the fuck are you going?" He says through clenched teeth.
"Away from you!" I yell, feel like I'm about to lose it.
"I need your help!"
"You and Miranda both need my help?" I yelled, "All you guys do is yell at me and drive me crazy!"
"I need you Anne!"
"I don't care Ryan. Fuck off, both of you!"
"Anne, please don't talk to me like that. You know how-"
"Shut-up, for once, I need to be by myself!"
"Anne, seriously, don't-"
"Shut-up you fucking ra-" The next thing I know I saw the backside of his hand, immediate pain in my mouth. I fall to ground, glaring at that monster, regret in his eyes. I get up and run back in my house. I go upstairs in the bathroom. I don't even think, I just do. I go in the medicine cabinet and look for any razors, can't find any. I catch my reflection in the mirror. Half of my face is swollen. I go downstairs again, and into the kitchen and grab a really sharp knife and run back upstairs. Back into the bathroom, I feel myself loosing a grip on everything I thought was real and I suddenly have a really hard time breathing.