Fighter

Chapter 9

I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm clock.

"Fuck my life," I growled as I threw a pillow in the direction the noise came from. Instead of the ringing noise stopping, a crash echoed throughout the room.

"Hell!" I hissed as I sat up in the bed and observed the room.

I narrowed my eyes as I saw the glass on the floor. It was obvious that my mother had left an empty beer bottle in my room.

Sadly, it wasn't the first time she had done that.

When I threw the pillow, it hit the bottle off the dresser and broke against the carpet.

I rolled my eyes.

Little piece of sh-

"Skylar!" my mother yelled as she pounded her fist against my door.

I groaned and dragged my bare feet as I walked toward my rattling door. I opened it and glared down at my drunken mother.

"What?" I growled.

Her blonde hair was every, she wasn't wearing makeup- which made her look like a walking dinosaur, she held a half empty bottle of whiskey in her hand, and her blue eyes were bloodshot red as she glared back at me.

"What the h-hell are you doing up here?" she slurred her words. She looked past me, trying to look into my room. I glared harder.

"You left another damn beer bottle in my room," I explained, but the woman just rolled her eyes.

"I don't d-drink..." she stuttered.

"You holding a whiskey bottle right now!" I yelled.

She looked down at her hand that held the bottle. Her eyes grew wide, as if she was really shocked that she had the bottle in her hand.

"What the..."

"Mom, you're too drunk," I growled as I slammed the door in her face. I didn't like talking to her when she was like that- when she was off in her own la-la land. When she forgot who she was, forgot her name, forgot her addiction, and forgot she had a sixteen year old daughter...

Pathetic.

I glanced at my alarm clock, eyeing the time.

5 minutes to get to school.

I sighed. Every day?

I was dying on top of my biology desk.

Breathing hard, heart about to jump out of chest, sweat dripping down the back of neck, forehead glued to desk, and two annoying pricks who couldn't keep their mouths shut was what my biology class consisted off.

It sucked.

"Why don't you set your alarm clock to an earlier time?" Daniel asked me in a tone that reminded me of a parent scowling a child.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you have a car or something? I mean, you are a sixteen year old with a driver's license..." Mason pointed out.

I picked my head up from the desk and glared at the mop-headed boy. "Why the hell would I would run to school if I had a damn car?!" I yelled at him. Some of the kids in the class stared, but I ignored them.

Mason cracked a smile but held in his laughter as the teacher walked into the class. "I don't know... Maybe it ran out of gas...?"

"Every day?" Daniel asked in a half whisper, half smirk.

Dumbasses.

"Seriously though," Mason just couldn't let it go... "Why don't you take the bus?"

"Live too far away," I muttered.