Melvin “Kit thinks, and I agree on the matter. That you should talk to someone” 

Bette furrowed her brows and shook her head.

Bette “Talk to who? and about what? And why is kit talking to you about this?”

She could feel her heart starting to pound in her chest, and a lump is starting to set in her throat.

Melvin “we think you should talk to a therapist about what happened, to a therapist. Kit tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, that’s why she called me. She didn’t want to send you a text message bout this. She wants to drop by later to talk to you”

Bette felt tears coming and anger building, she wanted her father off her bed and out of her room. She wanted him to stop talking and all of the noise to stop.

Bette “NO! STOP! JUST STOP! We are not doing this. I am not doing this! Leave me alone!” 

Melvin “Eliz…” 

Bette “ MY NAME IS BETTE. GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” 

Melvin stood of her bed and turned to door and couldn’t do anything other than leaving. Bette pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth she closed her eyes and was back at where young life started to crumble. 

Bette came home from college and set her hershel backpack on the kitchen barstool, she pulled out her laptop and some books, she heard noice coming from the master bedroom. And was happy to hear something because it meant her mom was home, her mom worked a lot she worked as a secretary for her dads office so when he worked, she worked. So it was a little out of the ordinary to have her home now, but then again bette was home earlier then expected to. Bette walked up the stairs while looking at her phone, she laughed about a text one her friends just sends her and.

BANG!

After that loud bang her ears started ringing, and all she thought was run, she ran to the doorway of the master bedroom the find her mother with a gunshot wound to the head in bed. She could move, she froze, she didn’t cry, didn’t scream. She just stood there, she thought stood there for an hour but it was probably 5 seconds. She got her and phone dialed 911 .

911 dispatcher “ 911 what’s your emergency?”

Bette “ My mother shot herself in her head. I think she’s dead, can you please help me. I don’t know what to do ”

She stared at her mothers lifeless body in that big bed, blood everywhere. Wait was she breathing. She can’t be dead, this isn’t happening. Please. This isn’t happening. Why can’t I move. I need to help her. And just as she thought that, she got back her ability to move her limbs again and ran to the edge off the gruesome scene. She didn’t care, she had to do something. She heard sirens, and the door opening. Shouting “ Hello” she yelled back. 

Bette “In here! Please. Help.” 

Footsteps running up the stairs, everything blurring again. She stood back and was met with the wall, her legs couldn’t carry her anymore so slumped to the floor. The tears came as she saw paramedics checking her pulse, even though just by looking at mrs porter you could judge if she would be dead or alive. 

Bette wispered “No please mom”