Chapter Thirteen

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My mother looked horrible, but for the first time in years she was sober and clean. It was an intimidating sight. Her hair was washed and combed out. Her hands were shaking as she held a glass of water. Her eyes were bloodshot, but completely focused on us. They were not glazed over or darting from left to right. She was staring out in front of her as she sat by the kitchen table. Skye and I both sat nervously across from her. We did not know what to expect. She moved her hand to touch her head and I flinched. I wonder if the fight last night had anything to do with this sudden change of heart.

"Look. I am going to try to take better care of you. To be a better mother." Skye frowned. I could see his lip pull up as his face grimaced.

"If you cared about us at all you would tell him to leave"

"I can't. It is..."

"Look at what he did to me mom! Look!" Skye jumped up and the chair fell backwards. The stitches had a few more weeks to go before he had to take them out. His nose looked purple and his lip was swollen.

"This is just the tip of the ice berg of what that monster has done to us. If you really loved us you will leave him." His aggression scared me. This was not my brother.

"It is not that easy." I could see tears forming in her eyes.

"Him or us. That sounds pretty clear to me. I do not know how much more of this I can take. I am going to Nat's. It will give you some time to make up your mind. I am getting pretty tired of being his punching bag." He grabbed his coat and left. He slammed the door so hard that the window shook. I could hear a dog barking somewhere in the distance. I could hear our neighbor's television. It sounded like a Rugby match was on. There were children laughing somewhere. Just another normal day.

I wanted my mother to choose us, but why would she start to do that now? Whatever Goliath was doing to Skye, it was slowly changing my brother into a distant memory. Why could my mother not see how much he was hurting us? Why could my mother not love us enough? Why did my mother love to get high and drunk more than us? How could my mom love a monster like Goliath?

These are probably things that I will never understand.

"Skye is right mom. I...Please mom. You can't...Goliath can't stay here anymore. One day he is going to take it too far and he is going to end up killing us." I hated the fact that I could feel my eyes tearing up. I just wanted all of this to be over. I just wanted a normal life.

This is not the first time my mother has attempted to get clean and be a better mother. The longest it has ever lasted was a few days, maybe weeks. I have learnt not to get my hopes up in these situations. I wanted to believe that she could change. I wanted to believe that she actually cared about us, but every time she changed in the past it was usually for selfish reasons. The last time was because Child Protective Services showed up. They walked her through a program and gave her classes. She pretended that she really wanted to change. That she loved us and that she would do anything to keep us. Nothing but a lie.

"I don't expect you to understand. Either of you. You have no idea what it is like. I cannot do this alone. I need..." The door slammed open before my mother could finish and Goliath walked in. He walked passed us towards the fridge. It was as if though the cold from the fridge swept through the room. Suddenly I felt rage and anger flow through me.

"Do you honestly think that it is okay to come into this house after you beat my brother up in this very kitchen last night?" He shrugged.

"Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?" He grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"Goliath not today. I have a headache." My mother held her head and sighed.

"That headache is going to get worse if you don't talk to your brat of a daughter." He slammed the beer on the table. I winced. My mother looked like a zombie as she stared out in front of her. She blinked and took the bottle of beer. A few seconds passed and I thought that she was going to start drinking the beer.

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