Overcoming It All

                   I hated the way they talked about me like i wasn't even in the stupid room, tied up to a fricken beeping machine that was pumping me full of painkillers. I wished i wasn't. Mom wanted to send me to a health care facility, putting it nicely, but really it was a nut house for crazy people, witch i guess i was now since they found me sitting in a pool of my own blood earlier. On the other hand, Grammy wanted me to stay. That made me just want to go more. I hated Grammy. The only reason she wanted me to stay was so i could be her personal slave/punching bag again.

           Mom had gone out and Grammy had gone shopping and i didn't expect them to be home soon but when they came home my arm looked like raw hamburger and the pale white bathtub was stained a beautiful crimson color. I was proud of my work but by the look on Mom's face when she saw me told me that she didn't understand true beauty, just the fake kind that she paid for with my savings account. Everything was hazy after that from the blood loss, all I remember was the sound of sirens rushing down the street.

           My mom touched my arm above the stitches, I looked in her eyes and in them was my answer. After all the bickering Mom triumphed, and i wouldn't be going home after the hospital released me. In fact, I don't know if she'd let me back home at all.