Come Back To Me (Previously No Friends Just Benefits)

9. No Friends, Just Benefits

"What?" he asked slowly, trying to process what I had just said.

My eyes widened realizing I had just said that out loud when I had meant to keep it to myself. I raked through my mind, trying to come up with a believable lie – there was no way I'd ever rat my mom out to anybody, no matter all the stuff she'd put me through. She was my mom, after all.

"My mom," I began again, "she might know who did it." I lied. She was the one that did it.

Jason relaxed and sunk back into the chair he was sitting on. "But she said that she had no idea what happened..."

I shook my head, "She's my mother, Jason. If there's one person that should know everything going on then it has to be her. Remember we were talking about my ribs and you said that I didn't remember? Well my mom has to know – I never bring people home without telling her so if it was the same person, she's got to know who." I said quickly, sounding quite convincing if I say so myself.

He pursed his lips, "I suppose you're right. We'll have to ask her – some other time, though. She's probably had a lot to process in the past few days..." he said sympathetically.

I just nodded in reply as I dropped my gaze to my hands. I wish I wasn't so afraid to admit the truth. My mom abused me, landing me a spot in the hospital and then had me cover up for her.That night I was released from the hospital with requests from the doctor to be checked on occasionally throughout the night to make sure I wouldn't fall into something serious like a coma. Honestly, a coma sounded a hell of a lot better than what I was going through right now. Every time I tried to think about why my mom did what she did, my head would throb.

Eventually, I gave up on thinking about it. The car ride home with mom was silent, and nothing was said. When we got home she set dinner on the table and announced that she was going out with a friend of hers. Whether it was an actual friend or a boyfriend – I didn't care. As long as she was out of the house for a while, I was fine. I was awake a little while and then I passed out like a rock.

"Charlotte? Honey?" a soft voice questioned me, pulling me out of my sleep.

I groaned slightly and cracked an eye open to face my mom, "Yeah?" I asked, my voice quite hoarse.

She nodded brusquely, "You're awake, good. I was just checking in on you as the doctor wished."

"Oh, okay." I mumbled, slowly falling back asleep.

"Well, now that you're awake we might as well not waste time!" she clapped her hands together loudly, instantaneously bringing me back to reality. I looked up at her with a confused expression on my face. What did she possibly want from me now?

"Come on, time to get out of bed." She ushered, throwing the duvet off my torso.

I frowned, "What am I supposed to do? It's midnight." I asked trying not to sound too rude.

She crossed her arms and glared at me. "Well, you didn't clean the table up after dinner." She stated in an obvious tone.

"Mom, no. You know I can't do work! I just got out of the hospital!" I argued, reaching back for the covers. Instead, she slapped at my hands, causing me to pull back and rub them to stop the shot of pain. I scowled and stood up, ignoring the sharp pain from my head. I wavered slightly, but disregarded it. "Mom – I'm not fully healed yet!" I snapped.

It was a mistake, really. Her face was reddening and her little hands curled into fists but she made no sudden movements. Her eyes were glowing with anger as they gave me a once over to look for any visible bruises.

"What hurts?" she asked rudely.

I gulped, "My head, Mom. And my ribs are recovering, the pain isn't as bad it's just dimming down – but it still hurts, Mom. You can't make me do any work, please. I'm sorry, I promise I'll make up for it but I just can't do your work for you right now I'm in pain –"

Smack!

My face whipped to the side from the impact of her palm hitting my cheek. I gaped at her in shock. "Did you just hit me?" I asked with repulsion clear in my voice.

She grimaced right back at me, "I'll do it again if I have to. I wasn't joking. Clean the table." She demanded, however, I could still hear her anger laced into her words.

"No."

I was taking a stand – on any other day I'd do what she said to avoid this, exactly this. But today out of all days? No thank you.

"What did you just say?" she retorted.

I folded my arms across my chest, "I said no, Mom. I'm not cleaning the table at midnight. I'll do it in the morning. Please leave my room."

A minute of silence passed. She stared me down, but said nothing. I could see her shake with anger that was building up inside her – I knew what was coming but I wasn't in a mood to deal with her bull crap. Not right now.

"Mom, I'm serious. Just go." I rolled my eyes and turned around, about to hop back into bed with the slightest triumphant feeling coursing through me. And then it disappeared just as soon as it arrived. She grabbed my arm with her death grip and spun me around, allowing her fist to come crashing right into the center of my face.

I stumbled backwards, falling onto my bed, cupping my face with both of my hands. My eyes were squeezed shut, careful not to let any tears escape. "I'm the one who put you in that hospital in the first place. I don't care if you don't remember, but now you know and you better not forget it. I did it once, I'll sure as hell do it again." She said sternly before storming out of my room.I gave myself a few minutes before I mustered up the courage to stand in front of my mirror to further examine my face. Even though my eyes were squeezed shut, tears had managed to escape and fall freely down my cheeks. Traitors. It wasn't until I saw the purple tinged right side of my face, and my bleeding nose that I started to break down into a fit of hysterics. I choked on my own tears, because it still seemed to amaze me that my mother had no fear in hurting me and making my bleed. My mother was my worst nightmare.