Starry Eyes ~ Nikki Sixx

Tyrant

1979

"Sadie, get out here!" my mother screamed. Waking up with a jump, my heart beat a little faster as I let out a soft sigh, attempting to steady myself.

 "Now!"

I jumped out of bed and rubbed my eyes, wondering  what it was that I had supposedly done this time. I walked out of my bedroom and into the living room, where my mother balanced her ugly yellow purse on the back of the green suede couch.

"You forgot to take out the trash last night, and you haven't washed the dishes this morning," she started. "I don't know who you think you are, or where you think you're living, but you need to do your shit. You have a lot of things to do today. It's already nine; I expect you to vacuum the house, do the dishes, and clean the kitchen while I'm at the store. Understood?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Better... Your father is at work and he won't be back until later, so you had better behave when I leave. No friends over, no using the phone, no TV, none of that-"

"Okay."

"What did you just say?" she snapped, eyes wide.

"I said oka-"

I was cut off by a sharp smack to the face.

"Don't give me any fucking attitude, you little shit," she snarled. "Do your chores. Ungrateful brat," she muttered under her breath as she grabbed her purse, and without another word, she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

It was safe to say that I was frazzled. I hadn't even been awake for a full minute before she was busy yelling at me and then slapped me. I had no idea what her problem was lately- I mean, sure, she'd always been kind of a bitch, but as I got older, it got worse. I didn't know if I should blame menopause or just her personality, but this was the usual. 

At least my dad wasn't home yet; he was worse than she was, as he liked to drink on his lunch hour- and every hour after. He was one of those people that just reacted poorly to alcohol, but that didn't matter to him. He didn't care that he was already mean enough because his moods didn't effect him, and as for those around him... well, either way he didn't give a shit.

My parents spent enough time fighting with each other that you'd think they wouldn't find the time to scream at me, but some how they managed. They always found a way to take out their problems on me, and as used to it as I was, I was also annoyed by it. Sure, I could take it, but I was tired of it happening every single day.

I set to cleaning the house as I was told, hoping to be done and back in my room by the time my mother returned. The last thing I needed was dealing with her when I hadn't finished my chores. She found any cause that she could to freak out, and I was not going to flat out give her one.

A little over an hour later, I had finished everything and was busy hiding out in my room again when I heard the front door close, making me instantly take the needle off of my New York Dolls record.

I could hear the sound of the paper bags rustling and of things being put in the cupboards, but being that I couldn't hear her talking on the phone or yelling for me, I figured my she was satisfied.

So far, today wasn't as bad as most days. Granted, it was early, but I didn't care. I would take as much peace as I could get. Tomorrow was Monday, meaning I would spend my time being bored at school (and avoiding the creeps), but it was better than being at home.

Now I just had to wait until my mom needed something else, or until my dad got home. Either way, I was on my toes.

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