Never Ending

Back home

It feels like I never left the house. The grass was a dark emerald green, the outside of the house a light brown color dirty and shed a darker brown. The wood from the steps were loose, you had to hold on to the rail to make sure you didn't fall. The roof I couldn't tell the color but it was dark. The house used to look so nice and clean. Bright. But after years of being untreated stood dirty.

I go to the door and with a deep breath turn the knob and open the door.

Empty. The house was empty once again. But it recked of whiskey the same smell from that guy... Fuck it's like I can never get it off my mind. The memories still fresh in my head haunting me.

"I need water. Then clean this shit hole."

I go to the kitchen. The same s it was last night. I grab Clorox and spray down the table and chairs. As I scrub I see a glass with water on the table and in the reflection was John looking into the reflection. I quickly turn to find nobody. I shiver and turn back to cleaning.

After hours of cleaning the house all I smell is bleach so I crack open a window and Plop myself on the couch. "What is wrong with me? Why did I get scared? And why did mom just stand there?"

This. This was worse then my mom not showing me she cares. This was different. Remembering ever tiny detail of what happened up to the point to where I called mom I remembered EVERYTHING. Now, it is confirmed that my mom truly hates me.

I get a little dizzy again. I get up and walk to my room. I lay in bed pulling my cover over me. As I lay there in the dark I stare at he ceiling, my mind races as to why every happened and if I deserved it. Eventually I drift off into a sleep.

——-

The next day I put on makeup. Just enough makeup to notice the bruise less. No more blood on my face but you can see where I got cut. I hope nobody notices. Not like they will nobody pays attention. Today I decided to wear camouflage sweats and a dark grey hoodie. I wasn't in any mood to dress nice.

I get to school and everything was normal. I go to my English class and take a seat. Class begins. I look at the time 1:17 class ends at 2:10 then home sweet home

As the teacher is giving her lesson I look at the time 1:20... 1:25... 1:30. Holy shit can this period go by any slower? Paying little attention to the lecture I continue my work waiting for the bell to ring.

RING

Fucking finally! I pick up my stuff and as I start to walk out the door I hear "Kris stay please" I groan and turn. I walk towards the teacher listening as kids walk past me whispering to each other "I wonder who beat her up" and "I told you she's psychotic, she probably did that to herself". They were talking about my face.. fuck I thought I did decent with the make up.

I go to the teacher "you wanted to speak to me?"

The teacher looks up to me seated "yes, I have a question for you"

I nod

"Are you ok? I saw the bruises on your face during class but didn't want to call you out. Who did this to you?"

I respond looking down "I just bumped into a door pretty hard. It's nothing serious."

The teacher nods but clearly doesn't buy the lie. "That looks pretty bad for a bang on the door. And it looks like you put make up on it to hide it."

Why does she care so much? She doesn't even know me. I don't even know her name.

I respond "I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it."

She gives in with a sigh says "Well ok then. But if you need anything you can talk to me. Im always here"

Yaaaaa I think not I don't even know you

I nod with a small fake smile "Will do, thank you miss"

"Your welcome"

——
When I get home I walk in the house and my moms home? She's probably day drinking. I shrug and walk upstairs to my room.

I need to talk to her. I need to know why she left me, why she abandoned me. I wanted to know why she hated me so much.

I grab the courage and walk downstairs to find her on the couch watching TV. Surprisingly mo alcohol around but she's not sober. I can smell it in her system.

"Mom... We need to talk. Now."