There wasn’t a day that went by that Vi wasn’t fucking guilty for her choices. She’d let her guard down, and in consequence, her teen had been hurt. There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t want to hold you and apologize over and over again.

Vi had been in a bad place, a very bad place. Again. And to cope, she found a significant other. She was so stupid, not seeing the warning signs. They were blaring and loud, but she missed them all. Every. Damn. One.

Now her teen had been abused and she obviously kicked them out of the house for good. You seemed like you got better for a while, she’d kept a close eye on you.

You had a friend to keep you occupied online, but recently there’d been issues. The friend pulling back and whatnot, and she could tell it was having an awful effect on you.

One day, she heard you crying in a phone call, talking about…about urges you’d had. To hurt yourself. She needed to step in, everything had gotten too far out of hand. Her skin prickled, and she felt sick. This was unthinkable.

“Kiddo?”, Vi asked, knocking on your door, “We need to talk. Now”

Fuck, she was so worried for you.