Seeing the Light

Chapter 1

"Iris," I heard my teacher's voice. He was pissed I could tell. "You haven't done your homework for 3 weeks now. And been missing out in class." I stayed quiet. I felt the cold, smooth surface of my desk squishing my right cheek. "Iris. Do you hear me?" He asked again. I nodded. It was easier to act like I cared than actually not care. He sighed. "These aren't high school standards and you know it. I'm going to contact your parents if this goes on."

Parents. So much for parents.

"I don't have parents," I responded. "They died when I was 7." His eyes widened with shock and pity. But then he seemed to remember. "No, I met your mom at the beginning of the year," he said, a bit annoyed. "Don't lie to me." I blew my hot breath out of my mouth making my upper lip curled. "Now, we're done talking. Hurry back home and don't lie to me again." He finally said, walking away to his desk. I stood up and my ears flinched hearing the ends of the chair scratch the floor with a screeching sound. Detention with him wasn't the most pleasant.

I trudged back home looking down at the dirty sidewalk. One foot after another. It was like an animation. One foot after another. Over and over. Time passed. I walked. And I was home. I wished I was in an animation where I would never stop walking. Never reach home. Never be home. Always traveling.

I walked up the dusty apartment stairs to my apartment, 506, floor 4. The door was unlocked again. I sighed, took a deep breath, and forced myself to walk inside.

I was instantly greeted with the scent of alcohol. I gagged, but I always eventually got used to it. My mom came over to me with arms wide open. Her hand was holding a wine bottle almost empty. She wrapped her arms around my whole body and I heard the bottle clink against the wall. Her words faded away as I only heard the noise made by the glass.

"My bab-" Clink.."do-" Clink... Clink.."I lo-". Clink... clink...

She hugged me over and over, not stopping. Her hand squeezed my face while the other pet my hair like a dog. "My pretty, pretty...." she gagged before continuing. "My pretty baby... You're so pretty-y-y-yyy..." Her words dragged on and on.

I pushed her away to go to my room. She was crazy. Freaking crazy with alcohol. I slammed the door before seeing my mom waddle away to the couch and faint.
I grabbed at my hair, sighing. My backpack felt heavy. My eyes were tired. And my hands were trembling. I saw this everyday, but it never felt.. I don't know.. It never felt normal. I wish it did. Then home would feel like home. Not hell.