HANNAH

I open my eyes and look around. I'm laying on the bed, notebooks scattered all over the mattress and my body. The room is bright and I have to close my eyes when I look towards the window letting in the blinding sunlight. I yawn and stretch. I must've dozed off while reading younger Hannah's thoughts.

I throw off the notebooks and sit up, while rubbing my eyes so I have a clearer vision.

What time is it?

Eight a.m.! Oh god, I'm gonna be late for... Oh wait a minute, I don't have to go to school—I'm suspended for two weeks. Nice. Well, I'm starting to like this whole situation... I really needed a vacation and this was kind of an unexpected vacation. However, the only thing I dislike about this is not being able to see... her.

No Hannah, no. Stop thinking about her! I have to remind myself not to let my mind go back there. I don't want to waste time thinking about someone who doesn't deserve it.

I sit on the bed and look around, trying to look for something to do because reminiscing memories from my childhood is off the list since yesterday I cried for hours and hours, feeling Little Hannah's pain in the middle of my chest. Reading what she's been through left me heartbroken.

My phone rings and I grab it. When I see the name on the screen I can't believe it. For a few seconds I think I'm still asleep and that this is all a dream, but everything seems pretty real to me.

Is she...? Why is she...? What the fuck?

I can't believe she's calling me. What the fuck does she want to tell me? Does she want to keep hurting me and humiliating me? What the fuck does she want from me?!

I take a long-ass time to answer so I miss the call. A tiny part of me is glad that happened since I promised myself to forget about her forever. But the biggest part of me isn't happy with me missing the call and is curious to know what she wanted to say. Luckily, the phone starts to ring again and her name appears on the screen. Now the impulse is too strong to avoid and I need to take the call.

"Hello," I say, biting my bottom lip.

Nobody answers and the person on the other line hangs up.

Seriously? Is this what she wanted to do? She wanted to call me and see if I'd answer and then hang up on me? Well, it seems like that to me. But I'm not blaming her, since this is my fault for falling once again into her trap. I should learn once and for all that I can't trust her. She gave me tons of examples, so this isn't supposed to be difficult, yet I keep going back and hoping we would figure this out someday. Yes, I'm that stupid.

"Hannah, come down! We need to talk!" Shouts my mom from downstairs.

Great. A conversation with my mother... that's exactly what I needed. So glad the guys upstairs are answering my prayers.

I enter the kitchen and see my mom sitting in her usual spot. Her arms are crossed and she's frowning. She seems madder than usual, which scares the shit out of me.

I take the seat in front of her and wait for her to say something I don't want to hear.

"Hannah, you have to apologize to Daniela Salvatierra and Mr. Fischer." Here we go... "You were extremely disrespectful to them and they deserve an apology, so tomorrow we're going back to school; I already talked to them and arranged a meeting. You're gonna talk to them and they will hear the words I'm sorry come out of your mouth so they can put an end to your suspension. Did I make myself clear?" She says, maintaining a firm tone.

I roll my eyes, not caring whether she notices it or not. I honestly can't believe my mother. She's so fucking annoying! I can't catch a damn break with her! Why does she have to be a pain in the ass so badly? I hate her!

I know it's kind of odd to think about my mother like that since a mom is supposed to be the person you love and trust the most in this world, but that's not my case. Although I'm sure I'm not the only one who hates her mom—I bet there are millions of kids around the world who hate their parents and suffer because of them too.

"Mmmm-mmmm" I simply reply. I won't agree with this plan of hers, but at the same time I won't argue with it—I just want a quiet day.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Hannah?" She asks, slightly irritated by my response.

"Take it any way you want," I reply, standing on my feet and heading to my bedroom. These past few days I've been so damn proud of myself for standing up to my mother because that, just a few years ago, would've been like a science fiction movie—unimaginable and otherworldly.

"Hannah, get back here now! We're not done talking!" She angrily shouts, but it doesn't matter how much she wants to yell at me because I'm not going back there. "Hannah, we need to talk," she insists.

I turn around and face her, keeping a steady look. "And what do you wanna talk about? Because every time I ask you about my dad, for example, you lie to me or just avoid my questions," I know I said I didn't want to argue today, but I'm dying to know more about my dad.

She looks down, nervous. "Hannah, stop it! I won't tell you anything more about your dad! I already told you everything I knew," she yells back at me.

She's fucking lying. What a surprise.

"Then stop saying we need to talk, because we clearly don't. When you're ready to talk to me about my dad and tell me the truth, I'll listen. Meanwhile, don't you dare to yell at me and don't you dare to even speak to me again! I'm done listening to your nonsense, mother. I have the right to see my dad and have a relationship with him and if you don't understand that... then I don't wanna have a relationship with you," I say, not raising my voice too much, rather maintaining a commanding tone. "Oh, and, in case it wasn't clear, I'm not going to that stupid meeting tomorrow."

After that, I leave the room and go to my bedroom, determined to find my dad on my own, which is something I should've done months ago.