Work hard(er) (dadzawa)

9: Questions

Mina and Kaminari had some questions.
After school I stayed back and explained some of it though I told them that my mother didn't always act like this.
Fortunately they left it alone, though Kaminari told me I could always drop by if I needed to.

After working my arse off I got home and put my bag in my room. With how dizzy I was I walked to the kitchen and grabbed some water.
The moon was rising as I stared out the window, wondering if in some other world I'd be able to actually see the moon instead of the brick wall I stared at.

As I stared out the window, I almost missed the footsteps walking towards me.
I turned to find my mother walking to the fridge.

Tear stains were on her cheeks as her red and tired eyes found some bottle.

"Mom?" I had to speak up, "Please don't get drunk again."

My mother paused as if only just having noticed me.
She didn't meet my eyes as she closed the fridge loudly, the bottle still in her hands, "Don't you get it?" She whispered in a raspy voice, "This is all I have, I don't know how to go on without it."

I blinked.
"All you have?" I wondered where in the picture I was.

"You're gone all the time, aren't you." My mother reasoned, "And those dicks I find on the street don't last."

"And you don know how to go on without it?" I again repeated my mothers words, "You haven't even tried moving on yet, mom."

"What do you know?" My mother grabbed an opener and took a long sip.

I opened my mouth to speak, "I'm not a little kid no more." I muttered, "Stop getting drunk."

My mother put down her beer loudly, "And you stop controlling my life!"
Suddenly my feet moved towards her and she grabbed my chin with her sharp nails, "You peace of shit!" She hissed, "I won't listen to you anyway, shut up!"

Blankly I looked at her eyes. She wasn't drunk, she only just started drinking today and only had a sip.
No trace of drugs.
"Have..." I started before I felt tears and had to start anew, "Have you ever heard of... abuse?"

"Oh god!" My mother pushed me away harshly, "You're to young to know what that is!"

"What?" I frowned as I gripped the counter just to be sure, "I'm not that young— it doesn't even make sense—"

"Yes it does, I suggest you get that idea out of your head." My mother denied everything, not having heard yet what I had to say. She could guess it, how humouring.

"Mom." I glared.
My face fell when a hand struck my cheek.

"Stop it!" My mother said harshly. I gripped my cheek as I glared at the ground.

"Abuse." I muttered.

A fist planted in my stomach and my mother used her quirk, forcing me to fall on the ground.
"Abuse." I whispered softly as my mother yelled in anger for me to stop.

£<...82\

It was the next day that I sat in class again.
I was angry, to say the least, as I glared at the clock.
Some messy bandages held wounds closed on my arms and stomach.

It was going so well, I thought I could tell my mom she shouldn't hit her child once in a while.
Why did I think it was alright?
My mother had stopped trying to kill herself with alcohol and drugs.
It was going so well.

Though, it was going down hill, wether I'd like to admit or not.
Maybe thats why I thought I should just tell my mother.
Maybe I thought I should come to terms with it myself? To prepare for what was to come.