Today, mother decided that we would play Cluedo. Yay, fun!
Note the sarcasm.

Fridays are equal two scoops of torture with toppings. Which toppings? Oh, the usual: a mixture of depression, insecurity, secrets and a whole lot of self loathing.

"So Zoe, how was your day," mother asked, as she rolled her dice.

"It was okay, I guess."

But by then, she was already talking to Chase about his math grades, and how his teachers feel that he could do his finals earlier.

It's not that mother did not try. It's just that she's more attached to Chase, and that she loves him more, and she thinks that he is the most perfect child ever and...
Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a tiny bit. But in all honestly, I'm a hundred percent sure that she loves him way more than she loves me.

I mean, why wouldn't she? Have you seen yourself. In fact, she doesn't even love you at all.

Shut up, I didn't ask you. She does love me.

Honey, keep lying to yourself. You're nothing but a chore for her.

No I'm not!

Yah, maybe that's why she's so interested in what you have to say. Not!

Shut up. Just...just shut up!

You can close your eyes to the truth, but that wouldn't make it go away. You. Are. Nothing. Nobody loves you, and nobody ever will.

"Sweetie are you alright?" Dad's concerned voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up, startled to realize that my cheeks were wet. Hastily rubbing away the tears I nodded.

"Yah, dad. I'm good. Just a bit tired, with all the homework and everything. Don't worry."

"Darling I think you should take a break. In fact, should go rest. Go on. I'll bring you your dinner," he coaxed.

Glad to have an escape for the suffocating environment, I nodded once more.

"Thanks daddy. Love you."

As I got up and walked up the stairs, I realized something.
All this time, while dad and I were conversing, mother and Chase were busy talking about something, probably his collage applications. Although she was sitting less than a meter away from me, my own mother didn't pick up on my foul mood and the tears rolling down my cheeks.

Just before I slammed the door to my room shut, I heard mother's voice.
"Where did Zoe go? She knows it's game night, and yet she sneaks away. That girl is..."

Almost in tears once more, I banged the door shut, unable to hear any more.

"Maybe," I thought, "My inner voice isn't so wrong. Maybe I'm just a chore to her, and she doesn't love me at all."

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

Half an hour later, I was in my dry bathtub, fully clothed looking at the razor that was between my fingers. Seeing the piece of shiny metal, I was taken back to the first time I ever resorted to cutting.

It was a year and a half ago, halfway through my sophmore year. It had been a really bad day, but was heaven compared to the days that were to follow.
I had recieved a D- in my math test, partially because I had missed a week of school due to an illness and partially because I never bothered asking Chase for help. I had forgotten my chemistry homework at home so I was sent to detention.

Exhausted, I returned home, wanting nothing more than to sleep. But just like everything in my life, even that want was not fulfilled.
What do I come home to find but a huge family gathering halfway through celebrating my brother's selection into a better school that would fit his high standards intelectually? What's more, the celebration was when I actually came to find out about him even wanting to shift schools.

A distant cousin of mine had opened the door seconds after I had knocked and had dragged me in. My surprise only increased when I saw our whole living and dining room full of family and friends. The sofas were pushed out of the way to make more room, and the table that was placed in the centre was almost groaning with the weight it was burdened with.
The place was full of noise. Cries of some forgotten niece of mine could be heard over the yells of uncle Joseph and Grandpa Henry, who were arguing about which is better, football or soccer. Amidst all the noise, however, one sound managed to reach my ears.

"Where the hell have you been Zoe?"

I stared in to mother's murderous eyes, wordlessly.

"I asked you a question young lady," she whispered, not wanting to draw attention to us.

"Detention," I answered honestly.

She was just about to open her mouth when someone called her from the kitchen. Just after yelling that she was on her way, she turned to look at me. Shaking her head, she strode away, leaving me standing at the door.

What haunted me to this day, however, what pushed me through the edge, what actually made me self harm, was the expression in her eyes as she shook her head.
If eyes are the windows to the soul, than mother held no feelings for me, apart from complete and utter disappointment.

I would never be anywhere as good as Chase. She wouldn't even spare me a glance if Chase were around. Heck, if she was told that she had a choice to save either me or Chase from a vicious death, she'd laugh and say, "What choice?"

That night, I locked myself in my room, trying as much as I could to shut out all the noises coming from downstairs. I could still hear the conversations, the loud laughters and the yells of Grandpa Henry, so I retreated to my bathroom, where nothing could be heard.

I cried that night, like I had never cried before. My sadness turned to anger, as my tears drew to a close, and finally, that anger turned into an emptiness. A dark emptiness that begin its reign on my life that night, making me its slave.

Just like today, I had stared at that razor in my hand, one that I had obtained from my sharpener. I recalled every word that she had said just before she left, and as each insult passed through my mind, I realized that she was right. She was always right.

With that thought in my head, I took the first step towards self destruction. It had only been one cut that night. I had stared in partial fascination at the blood that had dripped down to the floor, as my wrist stung.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The drops were like a lullaby, to which I dozed off minutes later, on the floor of my bathroom.

Over time, the cuts increased in number, size and depth, as I spiraled out of control. I began only wearing stuff that could cover my mangled wrists. Mother's attitude changed seeing me so quiet, and she became a bit more caring. But whenever Chase was around, I'd become invisible again. No surprise there.

There I was in the bathtub, just about to slit my wrist for the millionth time, when I heard a knock on the door. Startled, I dropped the razor. Quickly placing it in the cabinet, I washed my face, and walked out of the bathroom, to see dad seated on the edge of my bed, with two trays in his hands.

"Hey darling, thanks to you, I managed to escape from those two. You honestly are my knight in shining armor."

The corners of my lips turned up the slightest at his words, as I sat next to him.

"So, would my knight care for my presence as she dines?" He asked, all medieval style.

I laughed slightly at his speech, as he tried to bow to keep up the charade.

"I would be honored to have your company, good sir," I replied honestly.

As he settled on the bed with the food, and switched on the TV to play Moana, I could not help but say out loud, "I love you dad. Thank you."

...........................................
So, rather intense chapter. We get our first view of why Zoe cut herself for the first time, and her relationship with her mother.
Yet, we still don't know why her mother is that close to Chase. Is she really just closer to him because she thinks Zoe is a disappointment or is there some other deeper reason that not even Zoe knows? Or did I just write that to make you think that there is something bigger? ;)
Only one way to find out...