Cracks

Clean up- Presley's POV

Presley's POV-

My heart was beating too fast. It was all going too fast. My head was spinning, my heart was racing, and my body was shaking. She had to be okay!

As soon as we pulled up to my house, I was out of the car. I barely even waited for him to put it in park before I was running to the door. I needed to get to her!

I felt Dylan running up right behind me. He asked no questions, didn't try to slow me down or stop me; he was just there with me. He just ran right with me, getting me to my mother as fast as possible.

I didn't realize that the old beat up truck wasn't in the driveway. I didn't realize that the porchlight wasn't on. I didn't even realize that my mom hadn't put out our annual shitty Christmas decorations that we both loved so much.

I opened the unlocked door and looked around the small house frantically. It was completely trashed with things littered everywhere, holes in the wall, and stains lining the floors and walls. It was a mess. A complete and total mess.

Still, I didn't have time to dwell on that. I didn't have time to think about the things that had gone on in that house in my absence. I just had to find my mom before she did something drastic.

"Mom!" I called in a shaky voice. "MOM!"

I ran to her room when no one answered. I was terrified of what I'd find, but I was even more terrified of not going in. What if I could stop her?!

"Mom!" I said again when I opened the door.

"No!" She sobbed. "Go! You deserve better. Just GO!" She yelled as she drained the last of the vodka from the bottle and tried to hide the papers from the bank account behind her.

I felt relief flood my veins. I was so relieved... She was alive!

"Mo-"

I flinched at the sound of the bottle shattering. She banged it on the bed post that she was leaning on behind her.

"I... I don't deserve you," she cried. "I don't deserve any of this!"

Before I could react, she picked up a shard of glass from the ground and sliced her wrist in one fluid motion. I quickly got to her and fought her for the glass. She wasn't relenting as I continued to try to snatch the sharp object away. I knew that I was getting cut too, but I couldn't really feel it. I could just feel the panic and sorrow that I was feeling for my mother.

"STOP!" I yelled when I finally got the glass out of her hand and threw it far away from us.

"He's GONE!" She yelled. "He's gone. He took everything! He even drove you away!" She screamed as I examined her cut. Luckily, it was just a cut. It was nothing too serious. It was deep, but not deep enough to cause concern.

"Wh-what do you mean, he took everything?" I asked softly as Dylan helped me maneuver her away from the broken glass.

My mom hadn't even acknowledged that Dylan was there with me. She was too self absorbed to worry about anything else. I felt mortified at the things that he was seeing. However, my worry and anxiety were taking over that insecure part of my brain. I felt helpless.

"Everything! The account, it's empty. He left us with nothing!" She sobbed. "I fucked up! I always fuck up!"

I grabbed the bank statements from the ground and my face drained of color. "All the monthly insurance money? It's gone?" I asked as I saw the account balance at thirty-three cents.

"Yes," she cried. "The child support money is just... gone. No house payment. No food. Nothing. He stole the card and took off!"