【自留】Fallen From Grace by V(9)

Lying in bed that night, I keep looking at the golden flowers. It's not that bad. It's not that bad. I think about the knife. It's not that bad. It's not that bad. Tell yourself, Chara, it's not that bad. The rain comes again through the dark, hitting the golden flowers. They don't stand so fast this time. As I look on, they seem to be thrown downwards. Beaten in. Trodden on by the rain, maliciously stamping on them like boots on little insects. Looking out, I feel myself start to cry. The water down my face feels…

almost insignificant. The rain outside is torrential, and to it my tears don't feel worth anything. There's another knock at the door.
Chapter 3
A lot of the time I'll come home to see my dad just sitting in his armchair. He's not reading or texting or anything. He's just sitting there. Sometimes when I walk in he doesn't even look up. He'll just blankly stare at a wall. A part of me feels scared of that happening. When he's upset I don't feel like I should comfort him, and that the best solace I can bring him is by just staying out of his way. At least, I'd like to believe that, or that he thinks the same way. The odd thing is, he never seems like himself at all when this happens. He'll just sit and stare, no shouting, no jobs to do, no striking me or anything. Just silence. Sometimes I think it might be good to have a time when I needn't worry about him lashing out at me, but I still feel something there when he's like this. Just motionless. It's almost…