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BrelandWednesday, April 17

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Breland
Wednesday, April 17

"Stop it baby." I close the front door slowly, as voices echo off the walls. Is that my mom? Who is she talking to? Her fling should be gone by now.

"Mom?" My words don't come out as loud as I want them to. It barely making above their quiet giggles.

I set my bag down by the front door, my palms still in pain.

My feet lead me in the direction of the quiet voices. The sick feeling I had in my stomach getting even bigger then it has throughout this whole day

"I said stop." I hear giggles, my chest feeling weird, and not in a good way. Is dad back? He can't be. There's no way.

I should have just stayed in bed today, like my gut told me to do.

I can feel my hands shaking lightly,

"Come on baby." I feel my heart freeze. She's in the kitchen. With a man. A man that's not my father.

I have to relax, just breath. Maybe, maybe her thing is going on for a little longer than usual. They'll leave soon, it's going to be okay.      

I walk closer to the kitchen, feeling uneasy. I place my hand on the arch of the doorway.

I step into the kitchen light, my eyes widening.

My mother's sitting on the counter, a large man in between her legs, attacking her neck while she grips onto his hair moaning.

I'm paralyzed, he should have left by now. I've seen her hundreds of times with men and women before but they've already left by the time I come home from school. My face shows no emotion,

I can't look away, I can't say anything.

I watch my mothers' mouth open, letting a moan out. I see her eyes open a bit, then they widen, "Breland!" I stand still, not saying anything, not showing anything.

I lean on the doorway, she pushes the large stranger off of her. He looks at me confused, then realisation hits. He's the guy I saw this morning. He's still here?

She hops down from the counter, pulling the large shirt she has on, down.

"What-What happened to you?!" She speed walks over to me fast. What is she doing?

I step back a bit, but she doesn't stop. She places her hands on my cheeks, as I stare at her confused

"Why do you have blood on your face?" I just stare at her, her touch feeling foreign to me. I move my gaze to the shirtless man behind her, "Why's he still here?" Just like my face, my words hold no emotion.

She turns around, and slowly lets her hands fall from my face, "Oh that- that," She starts walking over to him.

His arm slips around his waist, pulling her close, I feel disgusted, "this is my boyfriend. We meet a month ago, and have been getting to know each other."

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