*wrote this to vent, I've no idea if I'll continue
*the pictures used are NOT mine

"Well, this was a complete waste of time," Cloe murmured, taking another cigarette out of the box.

"Come on, he's trying!" I immediately retorted blowing out smoke with a cigarette of my own.

"He's almost two laps behind everyone, he sucks," she snorted just as another car passed us followed by a strong gust of wind.

I tossed the newly extinguished cigarette, jumping down from the small wall we were sitting on. I walked closer to the road, the sight of racing cars in the distance warming my insides.

It was a feeling way more addictive than nicotine.

I felt Cloe come to a stand next to me, the familiar scent of smoke trailing her.

"I would give everything to be down there, even if I was almost two laps behind," I said quietly, not taking my eyes off the scene before me.

"Please, we all know you'd be the first one," she fired back, handing me her cigarette.

I turned to her, her dark skin and hair looking even more beautiful as the sun was setting. My best friend was hot, but more importantly, she was a good person. She had been supporting me through anything and everything since we were children which easily made her the person I felt most comfortable with.

I drew a smoke before handing it back to her; turning my attention back to the road. We stood in silence for a while, the way two people who understood each other perfectly do until my phone abruptly broke it.

"Fuck, it's my dad," I groaned immediately rolling my eyes.

"Better get it," Cloe helpfully said.

I walked back to the wall, hoping it would help draw out the noise; not that I expected it to considering it wasn't hard to guess where I'd be on a Saturday.

At least not since recently.

"Hello?"

"Medeia! Get home right now, it's past twelve!" my dad's both worried and angry voice greeted me from the other end.

"Didn't I tell you? I'm sleeping over at-"

"Get home right now or I'll take your car away completely and you'll never see another race until your thirty!" he interrupted my lie, of course, aware of my whereabouts.

"I'll be there in fifteen," I gritted my teeth.

"Lovely," he replied back still sounding mad.

I forcefully hung up turning around to see more people had joined us.

"Hey, guys," I greeted everyone as I walked over.

Hugo just waved, busy drinking a beer and staring at Cloe, while Ann offered me a nod and a beaming smile.

Bill, on the other hand, winked at me, making me feel very hot even though the tonight's breeze was more than chilly.

"I have to go," I hesitantly said before anyone could start a conversation.

"We just got here!" Ann protested with such ferocity she stumbled a little bit.

"The race is not over for another-"

"Okay leave her be, guys! It's enough she can't race anymore, give her a break," Cloe interrupted Hugo, who immediately looked regretful.

Because he regretted his comment or because he regretted Cloe not agreeing with him?

"Thanks, Clo," I mumbled, giving her a slight hug.

She knowingly winked at me, hugging me back.

"Sorry, Dea," Ann mumbled, giving me a slight wave as she barely managed to keep standing on her own.

"We'll see you later," Hugo added, also giving me a hug while trying to support Ann.

"You need a drive?" Bill offered, getting a cigarette pack out of his pocket.

"I'm good, thanks. I'll just walk, it'll do me good," I declined, earning a warning glare from Cloe.

She knew of my crush on him, but she also knew I was a stubborn bitch who didn't want to have Bill in the vicinity of my feelings right now more than ever. I just wasn't ready to share all about how my life got fucked up this summer. I'd barely managed to share it with Cloe.

"I'll see you guys around," I offered a weak smile now ready to get the fuck out of there.

Before anyone could speak, I practically sprinted out of there although I was in no hurry to get home, wanting to piss my dad even further. I fumbled around my pockets, smiling when I found I still had one joint left.

I light it up, wincing at the smell that was putrid. But hey, it got the job done. I needed to be stoned out of my mind, especially on the weekends when I couldn't escape my dad.

I just didn't want to able to think or feel anything, I just wanted to be left alone. And race. But now that he also took that away from me, it's like I had nothing. My anger boiled up, making me remember I was supposed to go to my anger management group tomorrow. But as quickly as the thought appeared, it disappeared even quicker.

Like I said, I didn't care anymore.

When I got to my front yard I sighed, not looking forward to the lecture I was surely going to get. I was also aware of the smell of a certain substance which wasn't going to help my case.

"I told you not to go to the tracks anymore," dad said as soon as I got inside.

"No, you told me not to race," I retorted, matching his stern expression as I closed the front door. Or more like slammed.

"Medeia-"

"What? That's what you said!" I defended.

"You smell like-you've been smoking again!" he ignored me, the vein on his neck pulsing threateningly which was very usual for when he was talking to me.

"So?" I shrugged.

"What has gotten into you?!" he yelled.

"I don't know!" I matched his tone. "Maybe we should go ask mom! Oh wait, we can't because you had her committed! While we're on that topic, can you tell me how she's doing? It's just that I haven't seen her-"

His face paled and the vein looked like it stopped pulsating. He sighed, putting his face in his hands.

As always, he could switch moods very quickly, especially when it came to the topic of my mother. "Medeia, please just-" his voice was quiet, weak.

"Go to my room and we'll discuss my punishment tomorrow?" I said, prepared for these scenarios. I didn't wait for an answer, instead choosing to go upstairs.

"When did we become like this?" he defeatedly said, making me stop in my tracks.

My heart pounded fast as I answered: "Probably somewhere between mom getting cancer and then going crazy," I said, unable to stop myself.

"I zato si ovakva? Zato što je dobila rak i zato što je- [And that's why you're acting like this? Because she got cancer and because-]"

"Nisam ljuta na mamu! Ljuta sam na tebe, jer ne samo da nam ne dopuštaš da ju vidimo, nego si zaboravio da se trebaš brinuti i o nama! Svojoj vlastitoj djeci! [I'm not angry at mom! I'm angry at you, for not only not letting us see her, but for forgetting to take care of us! Your own children!]" I screamed, tears blurring my vision.

It was something I wanted to say for weeks, ever since it first started happening. Ever since I went from a happy girl that was looking forward to the future to a complete and utter wreck.

I marched into my room, letting myself sob as I faceplanted the bed. Dad didn't follow me; he didn't know how to handle tears which made me cry even more. I was glad Zoe was at a friend's house, slightly too young to realize how fucked up our situation was.

I wanted to say I was going to protect her, and take care of her, and make sure she never felt how I did in this moment, but I couldn't.

So I did something I didn't do for a while. I grabbed my left arm and started squeezing it and scratching it. It was something I did when I got too angry, and hurting and breaking objects wasn't doing it for me anymore; I needed to hurt myself.

I haven't done it since I started getting therapy, a few years ago.

Therapy that my mom always drove me to.

Therapy that was every Sunday.

And therapy I missed last week because dad didn't remember.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

* In Greek mythology, Lyssa (or Lytta), part of the Algae, was the spirit of mad rage, frenzy, and rabies in animals. She was closely related to the Maniae, the spirits of madness and insanity.