Tristan: Mine, all Mine Book 2(Mature 18+)

Chapter 22

When she woke up the next morning, she was still gripping the knife and the bat. Her head was still on her knees. She was still sitting up, leaned against the headboard. The dresser and chair was in place, blocking her door. Her back was stiff and her body hurt like hell from sleeping in an awkward position for hours. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

Serenity slowly lifted her stiff neck and looked around the room, craning her ear towards the door. The house was eerily silent. No noise. No music. No laughter. The stench still remained. There were birds chirping animatedly outside her window and she wished she had a gun so she could lift the window and shoot every last one of them. What the fuck were they so happy and chipper about this morning? Her life was hell. No one deserved to be happy after what she endured the night before. Not even fucking birds.

Sitting the bat and knife to the side, Serenity placed her hands at the back of her neck and squeezed, massaging the tight muscle. She wiped the sleep from her mouth and glanced over at the clock. It was 9am. Kara would be coming to pick her up in three hours. She was no longer in the mood to chat and hang out with Kara but she knew that was what she needed, especially after the horror of last night. Her blood ran cold as her mind catalogued the twisted sin she had seen. She wondered what those men had done to her mother. She prayed the man sharing the needle with her wasn't infected. Her mother had been lucky all these years; she didn't want her luck to change, even if she was too stupid and too strung out to care about it.

Her teeth compulsively scraped across her teeth as she thought about the man who had tried to assault her. She didn't allow her mind to focus on it too long. Thinking about it obsessively would only drive her crazy. She had survived; she had gotten away. That's all that mattered. Like everything else in her life, she would program her mind not to dwell on it. Pretend it never happened. Pretend it was all a bad dream, a nightmare. She would refocus on Tristan. The three days of bliss. She had to. That was all she had left. She had to think about his visit coming up in two weeks. She had to survive to make it so she could be in his comforting, protective arms again.

Throwing her legs over the bed, Serenity stood to her feet and stretched strenuously. She put her phone in her pajama pants pocket, trailed to her bedroom door and pulled at the dresser, situating it back in place, beside the door. She then removed the chair from beneath the doorknob and sat it to the side, opening the door. Her stomach immediately coiled at the stench that drifted down the hallway. Her eyes cautiously looked across the hall at her mother's room. The lights were off and the bed was surprisingly still made, so she knew she wasn't in there. She searched their small bathroom and didn't see her there either. Her bare feet tip-toed soundlessly along the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front of the house, her heart drumming wildly in her chest with each step. She prayed she wouldn't witness what she had the night before.

No. What she saw was just as bad, if not worse. Her eyes tightened with sadness as they fell upon her mother, walking back and forth in the living-room. Her eyes were wild and wide as she touched and retouched furniture, moved items only to put them back again. Her mouth worked compulsively in a silent conversation, releasing incomprehensible mutters every now and again. She picked up a broom that stood in the doorway of the kitchen and started sweeping at an empty spot on the floor. Her hair was a mess, her skin was a grayish sick color and the halter dress she wore hung loosely on her body, soiled.

Serenity put her hands to her mouth and closed her eyes, pulling herself together. She opened her eyes and crossed her arms tight to her chest. "Mom."

Her mother continued sweeping the invisible mess on the floor, muttering and cursing.

"Mom!"

Her mother momentarily stopped and vacantly looked at her. Her eyes widened crazily for a moment; then her pupils dilated as they aimlessly looked around the room. "You didn't clean the house," she erratically complained. "I told you to clean the house. It's a mess. It's a mess. The house is a mess."