I had to live a life were work was much important than family, where I would come back from nursery and had one parent that hugged me on my first day. I felt like I was missing out something in my life since birth, I was missing one important element in my whole existence, the actual source of my existence: a mother. I was never loved by her, I would constantly do bad deeds to people I never actually hated to get the attention I craved for her.

Yet here she was, pointing a gun at me after killing the only parent that truly loved me for who I was.

"How could you?" I cried out as my hand covered the hard sobs that my body ignited in exchange for melancholy. I couldn't breathe and I felt my world spinning around me at such a fast pace.

There were small moments where I wished I could replace mom with someone else, small moments where I had to give the love my dad deserved from me more than my mom. I was left untouched by a mother that biologically conceived me but already washed her hands from me since I was a newborn.

She chose deprivation of a child over the failure of her business. She chose black lakes over newborn fingers wanting to wrap around her thumb, smiling down at me in return.

Yet here she was, wanting to kill me and end my own existence at seventeen-years-old. I had no hopes for her, no expectations, I didn't just sit down and hoped for her to come and hug me, break my stubborn walls and kiss me goodnight. I learned to lose hope since I was a child that begged for her attention.

After that, I was a void mess. I realized it when my dad's body laid on his own bed with dangling hands and no sign of life. I realized it when mom stood in front of me with a hood to cover her betraying eyes and closed her fist around the cold shiny metal gun, wanting to press the trigger at her own daughter, forgetting the moments where I cried at lonely nights begging for her.

All that I did yet she still held no love for me. It was like her body produced no-love enzymes and no affectionate hormones. She wasn't capable to love, ruining my life after her carelessness and self-loving.

"Dad was nothing but forgiving towards you, you didn't deserve him," I shouted as tears never stopped escaping my eyes.

The trigger was pressed and the bullet went straight to my ankle as I tumbled down and my eyes dulled as my fingers softly asked for forgiveness from my body as I trailed the blood that spurred out of my ankle, reproducing anguish out of the hole that the bullet dug inside of my flesh.

"You never fucking loved me, I expected that bullet," I cried out as my hands crawled on the ground to her standing stone figure as my fingers wrapped around her leg, "you are nothing but a worthless woman," I dug my nails into her knees as blood kept spurting on the ground, creating a line of the bright red liquid.

"I hate you for making me want to love you," I screamed as my broken sound resonated through the thin walls, "I hate you for not being a mother enough for me and a wife enough for my dad!" I cried into her bloody knee as the flood of emotions vibrated my body as my hysterics intensified.

She didn't utter one word as the gun in her hand aimed at my forehead with soulless eyes but I continued my confrontation, "You think that Mr. Clay will love you? no, he won't, that kiss was a mistake he did and now he's happily in his wife's embrace while you shot dad for loving you, so no, you won't stand a chance with him," I hollered as my nails dug deeper as I hit a rough stone inside of her, making her eyes tear up as a raw emotion came out of her.

"All I wanted from you was love, but you never gave me love because you never loved anyone but yourself, now you want to run along to Mr. Clay when he fucking ignores you the whole time, not once he talked about you, he has a family and you don't." I ranted as the tears soaked her jeans.

It felt nice to open my scars, this time, out loud. I felt like my body was discharging all the grudges, the hate, all evil things. It felt like confessing before the bullet took my life.

As I kneeled and looked at the reason I was into this life as well as the reason for my death, I realized that I could have lived differently. Although there was nothing I could change in my life, I wished to have lived it without my mom.

Her fingers shook against the trigger as if she was weighing her options and I hummed under my breath as she nudged the head of the gun more into my forehead, closing my eyes, I thought it was the last chapter of my life, the last event, the last moment.

It made me look back so much into what my life with my dad, what would have turned out differently with Levy and the love he and his family gave me so graciously. I smiled at my last thought of Levy as I reminisced the way he wrote love on my scars, stitching it back into such a beautiful, emotional devotion.

The click sounded as the most fatal weapon was ready to shoot into me and my body was shut down like a candy store on a Halloween day.

The shot was heard.