Left To Survive

XIII

A/N: Warning!

This chapter contains physical abuse

(skip if needed)

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8:30 PM

꧁ Yara ꧂

By the time I got to school, I was full of sweat, smelly and out of breath from running all the way to it. But I still had a good mood. I had a great time at Emily's, I haven't felt so good for a long time.

"You missed the first two periods," Mark noticed, when I joined the rest of my class group, who were waiting outside of the classroom for the teacher to arrive. "Well noticed," I answered. He kept looking at me, as if he was trying to read my face. "What?" I asked, maybe a bit too aggressive. "You're smiling," he said, "you never smile." A smirk grew on his face. I threw him a dead stare. Although, I wanted to, but it kind of failed because I couldn't keep the smile of my face. Not a lot of good things were happening in my life at the moment, but one did just happen.

I ignored all Mark's other remarks on my mood until the teacher arrived and opened the classroom. We all went in.

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The day went by, and it was pretty boring. Miss Adams yelled at me in the corridor for skipping her class without a warning. I nailed a test for English that I didn't even study for (it was easy, honestly). I had fun with my friends. Mark told everyone I had a date yesterday, and nobody believed my side of the story. But I didn't really care.

As the end of the day grew near, so did my worries. I really didn't want to go home. I never did anything as risky as yesterday, and honestly, I didn't even know where I got the audacity from, the courage to just run away. She must be so mad... And I didn't want to know what she would do to me.

But I needed to go back. For Aaron. For my little brother.

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I took a deep breath and rang the bell of my house. It was already getting darker outside, and this evening was even more grim because the clouds, that appeared a few hours ago, blocked away all sunlight. I heard my mother's footsteps getting closer. Angry. I took more breaths, felt my heartbeat going up in a matter of seconds. I shouldn't have come home. This was a mistake, I was so scared... My leg was twitching uncontrollably by the time she opens the door.

For a few seconds none of us said a word. I stared at my own feet, anxious to even look her in the face. Maybe if I didn't move, she'd get over it. Maybe if-

But she dragged me inside, pulling me by my hair. "Mom, please, let me just-" I began, but stopped because she threw me, still only by holding my hair, on the couch. But I fell next to it on the floor. It hurt, but I was too scared to actually care for the bruises right now. I looked up to her, and she could probably see the panic in my eyes.

"See what happens when you disobey me! Bad things happen. You disobeyed your parent, your own MOTHER, for heavens sake! You will never do this again, understood? I will lock you up, I swear to god, I will make sure that you never do this again," she was yelling.

I kept looking at her, trying to make myself look small. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry. I wasn't though, but I wanted this conversation to stop, I wanted her to just drop it. To leave me alone, for once. But I couldn't speak. My mouth was sealed off.

"You little rat, what happened to you? I did not raise this daughter. I did not raise you to be like this." She spit out her last words, as if it hurt to pronounce.

My mother came closer with every word. I backed off towards the couch, until I could feel it poking in my back. I was closed off.

And then the first hit came. The first is always the worst. It's as if you didn't see it coming, and that makes it hurt worse, I think. And even if you know what's going to happen, you always hope it won't.

I lost count of how many times she hit me. In one minute my whole perception of the world transformed from an anxious place, to a dark, red and painful one.

Pain filled my whole body, but I held my screams in. I knew how much she hated the screaming, so I held it in. If I was silent, she might stop sooner. But she didn't.

Blinding pain raised up from my belly. I saw she had taken up an umbrella to hit me now. This was new. This was not good at all. It had never been this hard, she should stop by now.

"Mom, please-" I found my voice back. But she either didn't hear me, or ignored my cry for help. Tears were running down my face, and I could barely move at this point, it all hurt too much.

At a certain point she hit my head hard and I went numb, the whole world suddenly seemed very clear. I felt myself leaving my body, levitating as if a ghost, and looking at the scene. My mother, angry and irrational, beating my lifeless, unconscious body up. I saw the girl on the floor (aka me) not moving anymore. Blood was slowly flowing out of a big wound on the right side of the face. More blood on the floor, coming from a wound in the abdomen.

Everything felt as in a dream. Slowly I turned back to my mother. I saw another person entering the room, but a bright light filled my perception and I fell away.