Pushing up Daisies

Prologue

Never felt like home.

My eyes jolted open, both frightened and surprised, my mother loomed over me as she held my right leg. I laid there in horror; she'd almost broken it with the brute force she slammed against my skin. "WAKE UP! YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT."

I never understood why she was like this, when she left, I couldn't help but cry. I sniffled, wiping my tears as she yelled out my name again and I just snapped. "Yeah. Yeah. WAIT A MINUTE." I yelled, angry tears streaming down my face again. I didn't even wake up that late and she's acting as if I woke up in the middle of the afternoon. I grumbled under my breath, not wanting to interact with her as I grabbed the broom; ready to start my "daily" chores. I felt a little below the weather today, but I can't show any signs because she'll just excuse it as me "acting sick just to be lazy". I think she'll only consider me being sick if I was dying, like what the hell?

It sucks that I don't have classes for a few weeks, I'd love an excuse to get out of the house. I can't BEAR being near my "mother" for longer than I have to. She always nitpicks and it irks me. I don't get how she's so angry at 8 am, like, did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? I stuck to myself; I avoided her when she came my way—even if it meant abandoning what I was doing just so I wouldn't have to talk to her or even look at her. It took me a few minutes (less if she didn't walk around the house so much), but I finally finished sweeping the floor, I then hurriedly ran out the door; book in hand. I never had a good relationship with her, anybody with a good eye can see that but the people who don't; can see us "interacting like a normal mother and daughter" but like I said, our relationship is far from normal. We argue a lot, yelling at each other over petty things and then we'd act—more like she'd act—as if those arguments did not happen and try to be friendly with me again.

Because she has no friends.

I think she blames me for robbing her of a "normal" life.

But it's literally not my fault, she decided to get pregnant when she was barely 18 and decided to keep the baby equals: me like I had a say in all of it and yet she can't stay quiet about how I "ruined" her life, like bitch, what?

"Come eat." I looked up from highlighting a part in my book to see her looming down on me, I nodded, and she left. She honestly gives me anxiety, it was much worst when she went out for the day to tend to her shop and came home during the afternoon, I would always sit in my room waiting for her to barge in. I could already hear her footsteps as she entered the house, she'd greet the dogs first then she'd see something weirdly out of place and instantly yells out my name and comes in my room, telling me about how messy the house is even though I had made an extra effort to make it look spotless, but it was not enough for her.

I think my brain has been conditioned to shut down whenever she starts a pointless argument with me. I'd just nod it out and then she'll leave, I can't understand half of what she's saying anymore. She complains about everything. When she sees the mess, she'll just use her voice and complain instead of just cleaning it herself, and when I go check what she's talking about it's not even that bad so I don't know why she can't just pick it up. One time she waited for me to wake up and the moment she sees me awake (practically still trying to stay awake) she'll instantly point out a mess created by our pets so I can clean it up, so the HOURS that she was awake... she didn't clean it up?

I always end up doing it anyways, does not matter if I wake up earlier than her or later, I will still clean it up because who else? She makes it a point that we don't have maids but treats her own daughters like one. She even said it to our faces.