The Babysitter (girlxgirl)

Six...

(Allison's POV)

I slide into the drivers seat of my car, closing the door behind me. I sit back against the seat, letting out a long breath. The news that had been sprung upon me was...not expected. To say the least. I replay the event over and over in my mind on the way home. We had had sex multiple times after Taylor's confession. I helped her forget her worries, her heartbreak while she helped me remember that she may be some supernatural oddity, but she was also very human. And very good with her tongue. Jesus. I had sex with a werewolf. What the fuck? A shiver runs down my spine, and not one of pleasure either. This changed things. Even if I wouldn't tell Taylor that. Not until I was ready.

Those thoughts were pushed from my mind as I get closer and closer to my home. Well, as much as this shit hole could be. I knew my mother would be drunk since it was early morning. She didn't stop drinking until she passed out which was usually around noon or so. I had wanted to push off going home for as long as I could but it was no use. My mom would already be pissed at me for not checking in and staying gone. She had always been so disappointed in me, had always hated me because I was my father's daughter. The man that had taken everything from her, or so she says. When in reality, He gave her everything and still she ran away from him, with me on her hip, just to drink herself to death and beat me.
Little did she know, that I had contact with my father over the years, and he explained everything to me. Had taken me under his wing. I was proud to be my father's daughter, and would prove myself to him when the time was right.

I pull into the rocky driveway of our one story, two bedroom shit hole. The lawn was left unattended, the windows black with the dark shades that my mother always kept over the windows. I kill the engine of my car, pulling my blonde hair back into a tight ponytail, trying to buy myself time from the hell that was my life. I close my eyes, breathing deeply and letting it out before climbing from my car and heading for the front door. I tested the knob. Unlocked. She was home. I was hoping to luck out, and maybe have her be at the bar. It was a rare thing for me to be lucky.

When I walked inside, the first thing that hit me was the stench of the place. It smelled like stale beer and cat piss. The latter due to the almost feral feline named Krank that my mom liked to keep around as her drinking buddy. The second thing, was the mess. Bottles and cans littered the coffee table in the living room, as well as the floor and any flat surface my mother could reach. There was food wrappers everywhere, some with half eaten contents still inside. I spent most of my childhood cleaning up after her. It was always a mess the next day, so I just started keeping my room, the bathroom and kitchen clean. Let her ruin the rest.

I don't see her in the living room which was a life saver. I didn't have the energy to truly deal with her, nor the patience. I had to contact my father immediately. He had to know. I hurry toward my bedroom, feeling more alive than I had in so long. I was finally going to do something right. To make him proud so he would get me away from this place. To start a new life. But that excitement was cut short, I shouldn't have thought I would finally get lucky after all these years.

My mother sits on me bed, my laptop sitting on her lap and a half empty body of whiskey sitting beside her on my bedroom floor. I pause in the doorway, my face tight, eyes wide. I couldn't believe what i was seeing. She was lazily scrolling through her emails, eyes flickering to me briefly before she picked up her bottle and took a long drink. "So you've contacted your father." She said, her words slurring a bit, yet her eyes, her eyes were aware. Too much for a woman who should be passed out on the floor. That was the odd thing about Julie, my mom, it takes her a lot to really get to the point of no return. And even then, she can do things she shouldn't be able to. "The man who ripped everything away from me. Who ruined me." She takes my lap top, setting it on the bed and pouring alcohol over the keys. I gasp and step forward, but she raises a hand to stop me, emptying the contents of that bottle before hurtling it at my head. I step aside just in time for it to break against the wall, shattering. A few piercing of glass fly off and hit me in the shoulder, yet I barely flinch.

"You're just like him." She sneers. "I've seen what you've written. About them. It's disgusting. Those beliefs." I narrow my eyes at her, hands balling into fists at my side.
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." I all but snarl, wanting to keep my composure, but finding it harder than usual. She was in front of me before I could even gasp, her fist connecting with my cheek so hard I was sent to the floor.
"Don't tell me what I fucking know!" She screams, her foot connecting with my stomach, once, twice, three times until I'm sure a rib is cracked. I groan, a metallic tang filling my mouth. "I've seen the things you've done. I now know what you 'basketball trips' have all been for." Another kick. "I hope you and your deadbeat father burn in hell." With that, she turns and stomps from my room.

I lay there for I don't know how long before I could move without making a pathetic whimpering sound. I hated pain. It made you weak. And in situations such as these, I could not afford to be weak. I crawl to my desk, hauling myself up into a chair, panting heavily. First, I text my father, detailing my plan to him, and waiting for confirmation. Once it's given, I press my hand into my ribs, pressing against the broken area until tears prick at my eyes, then I dial the number. "Taylor," I cry out, sobbing softly. "I need you, please."