Abuse

19

4 months later.....

Our relationship improved.......tremendously. I didn't want to at first but I slowly began accepting her again. The effort she made was obvious and I couldn't deny it.

She started taking me out more, to movies and places to play. We'd spend long nights chatting, resulting in me being tired in my classes. However, I couldn't find an ounce to care because I was getting the life with my mother that I haven't had in a long time and I honestly didn't want to lose it.

Unfortunately, I was the only factor in our relationship that was keeping it together. Because the state she came home in, proves she doesn't care.

It was like old times, only worse.

I waited for her on the couch like I had started after her miraculous change in being. She stumbled through the doorway. Her cheeks puffy and ears red. Although, I sat on the couch, the alcohol aroma travelled straight into my nostrils, attacking my sensory buds.

I was going to try to console her, just suspecting it as normal adult 'get wasted' night. I got up, moving slowly, being cautious of any sudden movements from the older woman.

But my body froze when I saw her aiding another body into the small house. The body of man, passed out, I hope.

Her body, getting frailer as the months went by, struggling under the obviously large man.

"Why is a man here?"

"You know.....what BITCH," she turned to face me, bring her lips together, placing much effort and emphasis on cursing me. "It's not any of your fucking business," she spoke, her words burning to register into my mind like poisoning moving down someone's throat.

Succeeding in getting the man to lay on the couch I was previously sitting on, she removed a damp cigarette from her pocket and proceeded to light it.

During the occurrences, I was frozen. My brain wasn't able to register all that my eyes were seeing yet I could feel all emotions.

Never in my life have I seen my mother smoke and I really didn't expect this. But, who I am kidding, she constantly does wrong 'what's a little smoke to the lungs?'.

What she did next, however, wasn't simply something I could brush off as I minor offense. Being a damp cigarette, it lit easily and burnt easier than most. She obviously didn't want it to burn her so, she so daringly yanked me forward and dug the burning paper into my arm.

I looked up onto her face. Her eyes showing sorrow but her stance never wavered. So many emotions coursed through my body at once and I had the most over whelming urge to slap her, so I did. And fled to my room in angry tears before she was able to retaliate. Briefly looking back, I saw her jaw slack and her fists clenched but her eyes showed the same expression from before, she knows she deserves it.

........

Staring at the now red burn in disbelf, my vision blurred and my tears made contact with my burn. It stung even more; and I allowed myself to cry out in pain. "Why?" I repeated, my volume lowering and voice beginning to crack.

There's only one thing I know that can heal this pain. Something I haven't restored to in years.

Where's my razor?