Kayla

Chapter 13

My mother.

How is this possible?

I couldn't breathe and I didn't know what to feel.

"Come on slut, I know you remember me." She grinned and took a drag of her cigarette.

"How... I thought you were dead." I knew I would faint any second now.

"Yeah, yeah." She wasn't giving much of an answer. Am I dreaming?

"I knew you would grow up to be just like me. Even when I wasn't around," she laughed really hard and it was scaring me.

"I never forgot what you've done to me," the tears started to form in my eyes.

She just laughed.

"You were.. you were in jail," I couldn't understand anything right now. My legs were weak and I felt like I would faint, or die of a heart attack.

"I have a friend, let's just say." She smiled and blew the smoke right in my face.

I reached further in my purse but stopped halfway.

"How do you know it's me?" I asked.

"Because I know. I can see it in your face. Despite the dead hair and slutty makeup, I can see you." She stared right through me.

"Kayla." She pressed her lips in a grin and I stepped back.

"I'm.." I was going to tell her I wasn't Kayla, but it's too late for that now.

"I talked to Mrs. Ian the other day, found out a lot of stuff." She circled me and I kept my distance.

"You don't know anything," I said quietly.

"Oh, I know everything." She laughed and I didn't know what to say. The tears fell from my cheeks and I wish I never came out here; I wish I would never see her again.

I reached into my purse and retrieved it, she laughed and it sent echos down the alleyway.

"If you hate life so much, you could've at least taken those pills, sweetie. When I gave them to you, or, forced them to you. But you didn't budge," she said in a mocking voice and every bad memory coursed through me.

I pushed my mother off of me but she was on top of me now, shoving a handful of mysterious pills into my mouth. "Don't you dare spit them Kayla!" She yelled and I'm surprised no one heard her.

I couldn't talk, all I could do was make some muffled scream, the pills were gagging me and I eventually spit them all up into her face.

She slapped me across the face. "Why don't you fucking listen to me?"

I stayed silent and the memories of her demonic, young and slutty face morphed into what she looks like now.

"I can't believe I raised such a coward," she laughed.

"You didn't raise me at all," I countered.

"Well, I started you off with your prostitution. Don't tell me I didn't help you with anything, 'cause, look at you now." She pointed to my outfit and I didn't dare to look down.

"All you've been doing is, running away, running away. You could've at least turned yourself in, we could've ran into each other sooner." She laughed and I pulled the item out of my purse.

"You ruined my life. You ruined my life!" I cried and jammed the pocket knife in her neck, the very middle.

She gasped for air and lay on the ground, blood spilling from her.

I just stood there crying. I wished to never see her again. I wished I wasn't haunted with these memories, I wished I wasn't reminded of who I am, but every day it happens. I have been standing here, sobbing for what seems like hours.

I turned around and all the way at the end of the alley way was an old man, peeking his head through. When I saw him, he bolted.