THE LUNATIC

Chapter nine

Chapter nine

She could here screaming downstairs accompanied by the thrashing of what she could tell were her mother's most treasured antic plates into the wall. How could she tell the type of plates that were being broken? It was easy. Try breaking a plate from one of your mother's favorite collection. But that was a story for another day. Right now she needed to find out what was going on down stairs.

Carefully, pulling away the fluffy covers from herself, clad in a her pink knee length cotton nightie, she climbed down from her bed and crept closer to the door. Put her ear at the door so she could catch what the fighting was all about. She assumed her mother was arguing with another man she had brought home for the night. She had got used to that sight already but was breaking those beautiful plates really worth it?

She stayed glued at the door but couldn't catch anything that was being said downstairs so she slowly opened the door making sure not to alert the people downstairs that they had company. She knew she would be punished for eavesdropping on the conversation once her mother found out but that bridge would be crossed when the time came. She slowly walked down the hallway to the stairs praying to the Lord that the old wooden floor doesn't rat her out by creaking. She really needed to tell her mother that a repair on the floor was needed. Heck, the whole house actually. She always feared the place was going to cave in on them one day. She really hoped not.

Reaching the stairs successfully, she sat down quietly to watch the scene below here. The stairs were darker which was able to let her go unnoticed by the two angry people down the stairs in the kitchen. She saw her mother. Her golden blonde hair looked disheveled, the cheap make up on her face smudged. Her eyes blazing with fury, as she looked her companion. It was a man that much she was sure but couldn't make out his face since he had his back towards her. He had sleek black hair and was wearing a black tee and faded jeans. The back of his right arm had a hideous scar that almost reached down to the back of his palm. She shuddered. How did he manage to get such damage on his arm? She never wanted to know. She pushed the fear at the back of her mind and scooted closer in order to listen better to what they were saying. She half expected her mother to come from behind and kick her in the butt.

"You don't expect to just waltz in here and snatch away the one thing I treasure the most in my life." her mother yelled at the man. She was crying. Tears of anger streamed down her face.

"I'm relieving you of a burden." The man said almost calmly which sent another plate flying into his direction as he ducked below to dodge it making it clatter on the dirty wooden floor.

"I'm not letting you take her away from me. How many years? How many years did it take you to realize that you have a daughter?" her mother yelled again and then she realized this conversation was about her unless her mother had another child she didn't know of.

"I'm not going to let my child grow up in such a place. Monica look, its falling apart. Consider it a favor. I take my girl put her in the care of people who are a lot more sensible—"

"Are you trying to say I can't take care of my own child?

"You're an alcoholic Monica. You look like a mess. That's not a good example for the girl."

"That girl that you want to take away from me and give in for adoption is my child. Your child." Her mother emphasized every single word as she caught a knife as she stabbed at the half eaten salad on the kitchen counter.

"Where is she Monica? I want the girl and am going with her right now." The man crossed the counter and moved to her side of the kitchen.

"she went to her friend's place for a sleep over. And I wouldn't give her to you even if she were here."