I set the vodka and first aid kit and jumped on the counter with a grunt.
Taking the gun, I shot the window alerting the house to danger.
I heard a stampede of footsteps from the stairs to the living room and then the kitchen.
I did not raise my hea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I entered the house after a long ass day of work with the gang and at the office only to be met by a hard slap to my face that sent my face slamming into the door.
I faced my so-called mother or as I call the egg donor with anger written on my face that made her flinch.
I took her appearance disheveled hair, a short tight dress, and high heels that can make your legs break from just a step, and mainly the white powder under her nose and the injection marks on her arms.
Well, there's not much difference as she was mostly high all the time
"Where were you this late at night?"
At least she cares
"Who's gonna make my food if you are not there?"
I spoke too soon.
When I did not answer and just stared at her from leaning on the door she raised her hand to slap me again.
I caught her hand in mine just in time, she started struggling to free her hand. I did not even use much of my energy but in her high state, it was tough for her I guess.
I released her hand as her struggle was becoming irritating to me. She stumbled, tripped on her feet, and crashed onto the floor.
She raised her head glaring at me. I left her there on the floor not caring to say anymore and started climbing the stairs to get to my room.
"You were so obedient when you were little" She began but I did not stop "but now getting angry at your own mother, that's not you. Maybe I should send you back to him. Maybe then I can get my slut of a daughter back."
She should not have opened her mouth first of all but at least should have known when to shut it.
I saw red when she mentioned him. I tuned out what she said after that.
I began descending the steps, she was not paying attention to me as she was in her own world of speaking about my obedience and her master.
She did not notice me when I dragged the chair to the middle of the creaking floor. She did not notice me when I got the burnt ropes she used on me once upon a time.
But she did notice me when I started walking towards her. She shut her mouth and started backing away once she saw my face which I am sure showed my anger and my pupils dilated and began becoming dark.
Too late for that
I started walking toward her as a predator walked toward her prey. I swing my fist at her disheveled face. She crashed onto the floor with the force I used and began backing away by crawling.
She knows all too well what happens when I get angry. The last time I got this angry it did not go well for her and her little boyfriend or I say as a boy toy.
I fisted her hair and dragged her toward the chair and began tying her with the ropes.
She started wailing like a banshee to set her free and struggled in the chair.
Wait, that's not respectful for banshee either.
I grabbed my knife from the boots and twirled it between my fingers. She was shaking knowing what was to come for her.
I began making small but deep cuts all over her hands, face, and thighs. They don't seem as much but they hurt like one motherfucker.
By the time I was done designing her face, she was crying for me to stop with tears streaming down her face from the black mascara and eyeliner.
