Her Story

Her Mother, Part Two

TW: physical/emotional abuse by a parent.

Ava walked into the living room quickly, where her mother's stare was waiting for her, almost holding Ava in place once she stopped moving. Her mother said nothing for a good ten, maybe fifteen seconds, and the taste in Ava's mouth went from mouldy, stale cereal to a sharp, dry, sicky taste, as Ava fought against what her her instincts were telling her to do, to break down and ask for forgiveness for absolutely nothing at all. She was rooted to the spot, neither fight nor flight, but rather freeze, and she would have said something, something stupid, but mercifully, her mother spoke up.

"Why the fuck were you in the kitchen?" It was as straight forward a question as always, but before Ava could answer, her mother added another question to the pile. "What did I say? What did i say, about being in the kitchen? Huh? *Huh?* Her mother's weight shifted, as if she was about to stand up, and Ava's brain was spurred into action.

"I-I was doing the dishes! I was doing the dishes mom." Ava had, to be fair, told the truth. If she wanted to tell the whole truth, she would have included the part about planning how to get rid of her mother, but that would not have gone over well. The safe version of the truth, however, didn't go over well either. With a grunt of effort, Ava's mother actually stood up, and her stare, not that she towered above Ava, almost seemed designed to let Ava's body know that fight or flight was never an option. Never. "Fucking liar. I know you were in there eating my goddamn food, yet again. You stick to *your* supply, or you don't eat at all. I told you that, didn't I? Huh?" Her mother's volume, which was already far beyond reason, spiked on the last word out of her mouth, and Eva managed to mumble out a reply. "Yes, mom. You said that."

"Louder!"

Eva spoke up, trembling. Her mother had taken a step closer, Ava had noticed, through her sort of sideways gaze. "Yes Mom! You said that!" Ava didn't make eye contact-she didn't dare make eye contact-but she gave her mother that same side glance that showed she was paying attention. Please just let it be over. Please.

"So why were you in there eating my food?" Another step forward. Fuck she was close. Ellaria's mother was at least five inches taller than her, and her mother's long, powerful legs meant she could cover a lot of space in a very small amount of time. "I-I didn't, mom, I was doing the dishes-"

Her mother's hand connected with the side of Ava's face so quickly, she didn't see it coming. All of Ava's subtle effort to keep herself safe had been for naught, as she was knocked to the floor, stunned. Her father stood up, a weary exhale accompanying him, as he walked over to his wife. "Come on, dear, there was no need for that. Come on. Let's go in our room for a bit." Ava's mother didn't look at him, her eyes focused on her daughter, who was holding her bright red cheek.

"Do the dishes now, if you wanna lie about it. They better be done by the time I come back or next time it'll be a punch." Ava's mother turned and walked out of the room, and as Ava tried to stand up, she looked to her father for reassurance in any form, a smile, a grimace and a hug, anything. He just looked at her with a weary look, a look that said something Ava was disgusted by.

"What can i do?" The look said. Fucking anything, Ava wanted to reply. Stop her, kick her the fuck out, protect me! Protect your daughter!

Ava picked herself up, and walked back into the kitchen. She made no effort to moderate the thoughts and fantasies that came flooding in. No one else in this apartment seemed to try. Why should she?