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“I wasn’t judging…”
“Whatever. Give it a try and then come back and tell me you wouldn’t need anything stronger.”
“I’m not here to judge you, Phoenix.” She holds her perfectly manicured hands up in surrender, showing she means no harm. “I’m here to help you.”
“Really? You could have fooled me.”
Deep down I know none of this is Melanie’s fault. She’s just been dealt a bad hand, and that bad hand is me. In my defense, I’m human. I need someone to blame. I need to pinmy anger on someone. To vent my frustration before I end up losing my mind completely. The person responsible isn’t here. But Melanie is, so she’s getting the brunt of it all.
“How do you expect to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped?”
She watches me for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. “It doesn’t matter if you want the help. Right now, you need it.” Another pause fills the space between us. “Like I said, we’ve found the perfect place for you…”
“How many times? I’m not going anywhere.” Again, she’s refusing to listen to me. “I already told you this. Not that you or those other pricks ever listen. I’m almost nineteen so realistically, you can’t make me do shit.” I don’t miss the panic as it creeps into my voice. My lips quiver a little as more tears—tears of frustration threaten to spill over; my emotional well refusing to dry the fuck up. The gift that keeps on giving.
“It’s time.”
“No, it’s not. Braxton is my home.”
“Was.” Melanie corrects me, pushing the knife deeper. “Braxtonwasyour home, Phoenix.” Pity flashes in her brown eyes which does nothing to ease my mood or frame of mind. I know she doesn’t want to do this; uproot me and send me away, but in the grand scheme of things what choice does she actually have? This isn’t a personal attack on me, although it sure feels like it. No, this is just a woman trying to do her job.
Taking a long pull on my cigarette, I try to think of a million reasons to stay. To make Melanie see that I’m being serious about staying here. “I have rights. Is it even legal for you to force me out of my home? Can’t you see that I’m the victim here.” I argue, refusing to back down. Desperate to claw back thetiniest piece of control. It’s almost like Melanie wants to agree with me, but we both know the decision is out of her hands. Outside of her control. This shitstorm is so much bigger than her.
Braxton might be my home, but my life is no longer my own. Every single decision is being made for me, not with me or by me. All I want is for someone to make it make sense.
“I need you to think about this logically” she urges, looking at me over her glasses.
“I have. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since you locked me up in this hellhole.”
“Okay… well, where would you stay? How would you survive on your own?”
“The same way I’ve survived so far.” The venom falls freely from my tongue. “I’ve been looking out for myself all my life, but now that suddenly seems to be the problem. Some crazy kind of safeguarding issue? Where were you guys back when I actually needed you? When I was forced to go through hell at their hands?”
Closing my mouth, I press my lips together while forcing the images away. Shutting them down before they have a chance to set in and take over. Refusing to go back there. I fucking lived and experienced it. Hell, somehow, I managed to survive it so I’m more than happy to pass on the action-packed replay.
“I don’t need anyone’s help but my own.” I remind her, my voice flat and void of any emotion. Yes, Melanie is asking me valid questions but at the same time, they’re also none of her fucking business. My life should be my life. Regardless of what the authorities think. They haven’t been there for me in the past so why should I trust what they’re saying now?
I’ve spent a lifetime dancing along to the sound of someone else’s tune and now my time has come to find my own rhythm.
I’m over it. So, fucking over it.
“I have friends. I can get a job and provide for myself, no problem.”
“I don’t doubt you. Not at all…”
“But…”
“But things have changed. Everything is up in the air right now, and you…”
“Wait…” I cut her off again, leaning over the table, trying to intimidate her. The same way the bad man used to intimidate me. “Is this you finally admitting that you know more than you’re willing to tell me?” My eyes bore into hers as I try to break her down. “I knew there was more to this.” My chest rises and falls rapidly, my pent-up anger getting the better of me. I’m being a bitch but right now I couldn’t give a damn. I want answers. After everything I’ve been through, I deserve them. No matter how small or irrelevant she thinks they are.
Ignoring my question, the same way she has multiple times over the past week, Melanie pushes up her glasses and continues like I haven’t just poured my heart out.
“This is a big step, Phoenix.” She says, her voice remains calm and collected. “This is a massive change; no one’s denying that, but you still need to leave Braxton. That doesn’t change. It can’t change.”
“Why won’t you tell me why.” I press some more, demanding more than she’s willing to give me as another roundof hot, salty tears threaten to break free. “You owe me that much.”
“I wish I could but this is so much bigger than me. Bigger than what I can do. Honestly, I want to do more, give you so much more, but it’s out of my hands.”
