The Million Dollar Man

She was once outgoing, impulsive, and carefree. But that's not what the world accepts, at least not in her case. When the drug addiction started, I knew I had lost her.

I knew that no matter how many times I told her to leave my father and get clean, that would never actually happen.

So why? Why did I torture myself like that? I could have just left her and ignored her self-destruction all together, but I didn't.

I guess I just wanted to feel like I was trying, and that I had tried, that I had not just let her slip right through my fingers.

No matter how hard I cried, my tears wouldn't wash away the devastation that I came to acknowledge as my life.

Though crying may have served as some sort of protection for my mother, it did not prevent her undoing.

But could it have been prevented?

Could I have tried harder?

I didn't try with my father. I saw no redemption for him and it was as simple as that.

At the age of six, all ties were cut with my father. I became a puppet for him, and that seemed to be good enough for the both of us.

It wasn't until I had stared my mother straight into her glossy eyes only a week before her death that I decided it was over.

She was dead to me even when her heart still pumped and her cries echoed throughout the house.

She was a mother in name only, married to a monster in the flesh and blood.

+++++

The cool air whipped around me, covering my body with a blanket of comfort. I sighed as I leaned back in the rocking chair, and wrapped the blanket tighter around myself.

Though it was seemingly warm outside, I felt like I was practically freezing. My frame shook with every breath I took, and I found myself constantly struggling to remain warm.

But I was not only cold physically.

The unforgiving wave of depression and come in the form of a tsunami, and it had left me drowning in a pit of despair.

At first I struggled.

Struggling proves to be the body's natural instinct when it comes to fighting for survival in situations as such.

Even when the mind gives in, the body does not.

How pitiful is that?

It's as if your body is fighting for you, unable to acknowledge your acceptance to death.

Every since the encounter a few nights ago, I had become numb.

The nightmares that followed provided me horrific flashbacks of my twisted past, and would bring me to a point of pure weakness, in which only then I would allow myself to feel.

And at my lowest point, it had always been Sebastian King to hold me in his arms and quiet my whimpers of pain.

In the midst of my misery, I would cry out the memories that would haunt me. I would plead him to ease the anguish of my past, and urge him to provide me with only a sliver of solace, anything to ease the treacherous ache within my heart. I often found myself suffocating, writhing under the strong waves of depressed that washed over me.

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I was breaking and there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

« Good lord Evelyn, you're going to catch a cold. >>

I turned my head in surprise, not realizing that someone had opened the front door while I was fighting my internal battle

I remained silent as Sebastian knelt in front of me, his brows knitted together in worry. His hand gently brushed against my cheek, but as soon as his touch came, it quickly disappeared.

He frowned slightly and shook his head, << You're cold as ice. I'm taking you inside. >>

I didn't say a word as he gently helped me up. My eyes remained on the ground as he led me inside the house, but not before quickly looking around. I felt a twinge of emotion ignite within me, though I sought to push it down. The second I entered the house; I was instantly greeted with warmth. It was only then that I realized how cold I had been.

I could practically feel myself defrost as I shivered violently, which made Sebastian cast down a look of concern.

<< I can handle a cold, >> I stuttered out through my chattering teeth. My voice broke through the silence that had settled in, causing Sebastian to meet my hard glare. He seemed taken aback by my change in mood, but he seemed to shake it off as he continued to watch it.

<< I know that, >> he spoke softly and cautiously.

I felt my expression harden as he continued to gaze down upon me. It frustrated me to a point of no return- the way he looked at me.

It was as if I were some kind of child who needed to be cared after; a weak, little girl that I had vowed for myself to never ever return to.

Truth be told, deep down I was aware that my rage shouldn't directed at Sebastian. It was a problem, one of my many, to attack others in times of despair.

<< Don't talk to me like that. >> I said firmly, narrowing my eyes at Sebastian. My tongue flicked across my dry, chapped lips as Sebastian stiffened and glared down at me. Small flurries of butterflies were released within my stomach, bringing me a rush of adrenaline.

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With the newfound bravery that could easily be seen as stupidity, I clenched my fists and took a step closer to him, so that our chests skimmed together with each breath. The silence in the house was practically deafening, and I wished nothing more that to have Mason and Callum come in here and break the tension.

I shook that thought away as I remembered that they were gone for the time being, and would return later tonight.

Ever since my discovery that the Kings was growing weaker, Sebastian has been sending out large groups of men to wreak havoc across London.

An act of desperation at its finest.

<< What is wrong with you? >> Sebastian snapped. His dark eyes were beginning to spark with anger, and if I hadn't been looking for trouble I would have backed down instantly.

But unfortunately I was, and it seemed as though trouble was exactly what was coming my way.

<< You keep treating me like a delicate little child ! » I cried out. I felt my cheeks flush with anger and frustration, and I surely did not help my case as I stomped my foot on the ground with irritation.

Sebastian cocked a brow at my actions, and though the corners of his lips quirked with amusement, his anger easily overpowered him.

<< Maybe if you didn't always act like a little child, we wouldn't have this problem, now would we? » I could see that his patience was long since gone, and pure annoyance was written across his features.

I rolled my eyes and ran my hand through my hair as he continued to rant to me, unleashing his pent up vexation.

<< For days I have comforted you, wiped away your tears, and listen to your endless stories, and what do I get in return? >> The vein in his necked popped out dangerously as he spoke angrily, « A moody, bi-polar bitch. >>

My face remained void of emotion as I absorbed his words like a sponge. He was exactly right though, just like he had been the day at the club.

<< It's always back and forth, and back and forth, »> Sebastian exclaimed, gripping my upper arms with a tight grip. A whimper escaped my lips as he shook me, his eyes taking on an animalistic flare.

<< I'm getting sick of it. >> His words were so venomous that I could feel the sting deep within me. << I have been trying much too hard lately to be nice to you and I can't do this anymore if this is how you're going to react. >>