Last Broken Heart ✔️

Chapter 26

"Even when I feel nothing,
I feel it completely."
-Sylvia Plath

"Prima!" I yell, as soon as I close the door of the flat behind me, a few days later. She peeks her head out of the door leading to the kitchen, her eyes wide.

"Yeah?" She says, her hands pressed to the door frame. I walk over to her, dropping my bag to the floor and pulling her in for a hug. "Oh." She says, a little taken aback. "What's all this about? You're never hugging me unless... well you're never hugging me." She laughs, and I squeeze her harder.

"I just missed you." I mumble into her shoulder. "I'm gonna go home for a while." I tell her. Prima's hands rub up and down my back in a soothing way, her breath on the back of my neck.

"Okay." She says. "If that's what you want. If you're ready." I nod my head and Prima pulls back, her hands on either side of my face. She squeezes my cheeks and I pout, causing her to grin. "I love you, Leona." She says, and I smile.

"I love you too, babes." I say. "Anyways, I have homework which I need to complete before I go." I say, and she lets me go. I skip over to my room, closing the door behind me.

***

For the second time this month, I'm standing outside my mum's house. We decided to have dinner and it'll be nice to catch up with after what feels like years, and I was excited. After I ring the doorbell, I wring my fingers together in nervousness. When there's no movement after a few minutes, I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I knocked again with no avail. Maybe she forgot about dinner and went out. I try the door handle and shockingly, the door swings open under my touch. My dad was always keen on keeping the doors locked because of fear that a burglar would break in and kill us all.

Careful of my surroundings, I slowly enter my childhood home. There's no sound of my mum anywhere, and the only thing I hear is the blasting of the T.V opposite me. Mum isn't on the sofa, in fact, she's not even in the living room.

"Mum?" I called out. "Are you here?" I ask, looking around. My heart jumps when I hear a crash coming from the kitchen. My head whips to the side, and my legs are moving. I rush towards the kitchen, throwing the door open. Mum is barely standing, holding herself up by gripping onto the edge of the worktop. A glass is smashed at her feet, and I gasp in shock.

Mum never got drunk. Not even after her dad died.

"Mum?" I say, approaching her slowly. Her eyes flicker to mine, and they're blazing with anger. The white of her eyes were now bloodshot and sore. I'm instantly frozen in place.

"You." She spits, and I'm taken aback. I've never experienced my parents being drunk, and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to deal with this. I watch in shock as she stumbles towards me, her feet crunching against the broken glass. She doesn't even wince at the pain. The trail of blood follows behind her.

"Mum-" I begin to say, but she grips my arm, throwing me to the floor. My hair falls onto my face, and I'm crawling back before she can get closer to me.

"You killed him." She exclaims, anger evident in her voice. "You- killed my husband. And, what did you get? A mere scratch?" She's shouting now. She takes a step towards me and now she's towering over me. I'm frozen in place. Because, the words she's saying are true. Mum never said anything about how dad died to me, before. "You deserve to rot in hell!" She screams, and a wash of enormous guilt drowns me. I do. I deserve to rot in hell for the rest of my miserable life. "You killed him, and now..." Her fist curls around my hair as she pulls me up to my feet. I scream in pain, trying to push her away from me. "You're gonna get what you deserve."

"Mum!" I yell, swinging my arms. "Get off of me!" Instead, she backhands me, letting me go so I fall back onto the cold floor. My head crashes against the tiles and my forehead feels sticky from blood. Mum's never hit me before. And, as much as I want to blame it on the alcohol, I can't. This is the real her. She hated me for my dad's death.

"You don't like this, do you?" She says, kicking me in the stomach. "Imagine how your dad felt when you were the last person he had to see before he died." She says, and as much as it pained me, I kicked my leg out and crawled back. The laundry room was right behind me, and all I needed to do was get in there and lock the door behind me. When I saw my mum stumble slightly, I flew to my feet and ran back into the room, locking the door.

Mum bangs her fists against the door, screaming and shouting. I curl up into a ball in the corner and pull my phone out of my pocket. My hands shook as I brought up Preece's number and called him. I bit my nails with nerves until he answered.

"Hey, Alana." He says, and a wash of relief flows through me.

"Preece, I need- I need your help." I say. "I'm at my mum's house and- and I need you to come and get me."

"Hold on- are you okay?" He asks frantically. "What's the address?"

"I'll be fine if you get here." I say. "It's 54 Trunk Lane. Hurry, please." I say, and Preece hangs up. The banging eventually stops and I hear a thump- my mum falling to the ground. However, I was still too scared to open the door.

My eyes close and my body shakes as I shut out everything my mum said to me.