♡A Nightmare On Elm street(fanfiction)♡(editing!)

"where were you?" Part 12(edited.)

"Where were you?"
Damions mother slambed his bedroom door open as he layed in his messy bed. Wearing nothing but a pair of  old tattered ripped jeans and neon green headphones. Overflowing ash trays and multiple monster energy drinks sat on the coffee table beside him.
"What?" Damion hissed as he took his headphones off, still blaring "change." By deftones.

"You were gone all night. I tried to call you over and over again, wondering if you were dead in a ditch somewhere. If you overdosed somewhere.. but you never anwsered... as usual." Damions mother yelled in a fit of rage. She stumbled as she pointed her long boney finger in his direction, reaking of alcohol..

"Yeah well my phone was dead so..."
Damion rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Every other word that comes out of your mouth is a god damn lie anymore."
Damions mother stared into his tired, dialated eyes in anger.
"I dont even know who you are anymore... i surely didnt raise you to be like this."
She shook her head in doubt.

"To be like what?"
Damion shouted. "Whats so wrong with the way i am? Why am i so terrible?"
He jumped out of bed. His pulse racing so hard that his chest began to ache. From the speed he had been secretly taking, and stopped selling. From the anger and the sadness and the frustration he held inside of him and kept buried underneath his tough exterior. His jokes, his fake smirks.

"Youre a drug addict! Look at you!
You always look tired, youre so thin and pale, you never sleep! Youve turned into some stranger that lives in my house. Lying.. steeling from my wallet to afford your dope." She screamed.
"You've become nothing but a dopefiend. If  you keep on like this you're going to end up in a casket at 18 years old... is that what you want? To waste away until you dissapear?"
Damions mother continued to shout.

"MAYBE I DO! MAYBE I DO WANT TO BE DEAD! And since im such a 'terrible' person then maybe everybody would be better off if i were dead." Damion screamed as he picked a black hoody up off of his bed and threw it over his head.

"You dont mean that Damion... why would you say that? Ive never heard you talk like this." Damions mother began to cry.

"Oh Dont cry over me mom.. im just a stranger, im just another dope fiend, REMEMBER????" Damions eyes widened with rage as he clinched his fist and punched a hole in the wall, making his mother jump.
"Please stop it... i cant take it when you get like this." Damions mother cried.

"Everything is always about you isnt it? Elanore the innocent victem, who has to deal with her terrible 'drug addict' son. Well maybe if you werent such a fucking PSYCHO and a fucking ALCOHOLIC i wouldnt be this way.... you probably cant even remember what happened last night... or the night before that... dont worry, i was with my girlfriend, someone who actually gives a fuck about me! Because god know that YOU FUCKING DONT!!!!!!!"
Damion screamed so loud that his throat became sore, making his mother tremble with fear.

"I... i want you out of my house."
She cried, her voice shaking.

"Gladly." Damion grinned as he put on an old black pair of nikes that sat on his bedroom floor.
"And youre right mom... the Damion that you knew... theres nothing left of that damion. But guess what 'mom' you are partly to blame for it."
Damion threw a black backpack over his shoulder that hung off of the headboard of his bed.

"How dare you say that to me, i gave you all that i had damion!"
Damions mother screamed and cried as he gathered his things and threw them into the book bag.

"Youre a pill head and a drunk mom, so what you had to give. It wasnt enough. But hey, like mother like son right?"
Damion stood before his mother and grinned.
"Dont call.... i wont anwser, as usual." He rolled his eyes and walked past her.
"Hopefully the next time you hear from me... i will be dead."
Damion walked out of the door slambing it behind him, making a framed  nirvana poster that he had hanging on his wall fall to the floor as well as his mother. Who broke down in tears as she stared down at the shattered glass. She cried on her kneese and into the palms of her hands hystericaly. Mascara running down her face, crying so hard that she could hardly breathe.
"I was a good mom."
She cried to herself.