Forever and a day

home

I've decided fear is a horrible thing, and an even worse weapon.
I guess so is pain.
But pain goes away after a while. Fear, fear does not. Fear is a cage. It's a cage that locks you so deep into yourself that you can't find your way back. It's a trap, it's a snare that's waiting for you to take the bait. And then BAM it's gotcha.

I hate fear.

And it's fear now, that's got me trapped, frozen, laying on the hardwood floors of our living room. I never noticed how cold hardwood is. Actually that's a lie, I always notice how cold hardwood is, as I lay on it about twice a day.

"Get up" my mother hisses. Learing over me.
"Get. Up." She seethes again, this time grabbing me by my hair and hauling me up until I'm standing. Though I guess you can't really call it standing. It's more of a lagging? I think. I'm not sure, but I know I'm not standing.
"You useless, pathetic girl" my head remains down, not daring to look up at her.

My mom's a few inches taller than me, I'm 5'7" so I'd say she's about 5'9"ish. My dad's also tall. I think. I actually have not a single clue as he left when he found out mom was pregnant. I like to pretend he's tall, because what 19 year old wants a short dad? Not me.

"Do you have any idea how much you cost me!!" She screams in my ear. Spit flys onto my face and I try not to scowl at the fact that my face now smells like rotten teeth and alcohol.

I'm gonna have to bleach my skin

"That pack was 90$!!!!" She screams again.
I don't know what she's talking about, cigarettes here are not 90$. I should know I'm the one getting them when she's to high or drunk to even lift a finger.

"I didn't touch them, I swear mom"
It's true, I didn't touch them. Wise did, when we were running back up to my room, he snagged them. And I only found out because they where ripped up on his dog bed. I had to shove a bunch of peroxide down his throat to get him to throw them up.
Damn dog.
But I don't dare tell mum that, I don't need my only friend killed and then thrown at me.

At the fact that I talked back, she yanks my hair harder.
"You fucking kid!!" She screams into my ear, again. Honestly I'm not sure how I haven't gone deaf.
"Talking back to me as if I didn't raise you!!"
She pulls me back towards THE wall.
The wall that has so much of my blood on it, it looks like it should be painted.

Since I can remember she's used this wall, for many things. Like the wippings, lashings with the belt, throwing me against it, smacking my head into it.
Every time she makes me clean the blood off after, but eventually it just started staining. And that earned me another wipping.

"As if I didn't feed you!!" She smacks my head into it. If I didn't know better I'd think my head was bleeding, but I know better and I know the most that there's gonna be is a pretty decent bruise tomorrow.
"You ungrateful girl!!" She slams my head against it again. My vision go's spotty for a minute but then I'm back. I'm happy Wise isn't seeing this. He's currently locked in my room. I wouldn't want him thinking me weak when the tears starts streaming.
See that's what mum loves to see, the tears. That show of weakness. Because as soon as she sees them she stops. And I don't know why I cry, yes because it hurts. But it doesn't hurt as bad as it used to. Or I'm just used to it.
Either way, I hate myself when I cry.
She's right, I am pathetic.
There are people who go through way worse. I should be able to handle being knocked around a little.
Mum walks back to the kitchen, apparently being done for now. So I take that as my chance to bolt up the stairs and fling myself through my bedroom door, slamming it behind me.
Leaning against the door, a worried Wise comes up to me and bunts my hand with his nose.
Sliding down the door, I stroke his back.

This dog, I swear. I've had him for three years, since he was a pup. And he's been my best friend. He goes everywhere I go. Unless I'm home. Then he's in my room so mum doesn't decide to beat him as well.
I got him from our local pet store, the owners dog had a bunch of puppies so she brought them in to be adopted after they were weaned.
There were a bunch of kids in the playpen with all the puppies, playing with them. And Wise was the only one who came up to me. He had a few marks on his ears from his siblings I'm assuming. We related to eachother in a sense, both bore scars. For different reason obviously but still. He was also the only one that was black. Pitch black. Not a spot of color. His ears over the year have pricked, so now they stand tall on his head.

I look down at him and see his golden eyes already looking up at me. Patting his head one last time, I get up off the ground and head into my adjoined bathroom. Wise at my side.
I turn on the sink and pull a face cloth out of the drawer. Wise's big nose nuzzles into my face as I attempt to wash it. Stupid gigantic dog.

Finishing washing up, I decide we need to get out. I grab my bag and keys, listen at my door for any sign of mum and when the coast is clear I dash down the stairs, Wise on my heels. He knows the routine now, stick close or fear mums wrath. It's only happend once that Wise got caught by mum. And that's the only time I ever yelled at my mother. Karma kicked me in the butt hard that day.

We hop into my car, Wise in the passenger seat and head out. I drive to my favorite spot in the whole world. Madams Sweat Treats. The only ice cream shop that will allow Wise in. The owner Cherry loves Wise, thinks he's such a handsome guy. Gives him his own ice cream and all.
We head in and while I'm looking down at Wise, asking him which flavor of ice cream he wants today (as all pet owners do, don't judge) I slam right into the door. Why not, just, Why the freak not. Thats what needed to happen today. Land on my rear infront of people. Spectacular.
A hand comes into my view and I take note of the harsh tattoos that roam the top of the hand.
Cool
Taking the hand, I offer a thanks. Looking up to see who my savor is I'm met with a chest. Looking even higher up I'm finally met with a pair of dark eyes. So dark they look black.
"Sorry" I say, letting go of the hand I was still holding. Looking up again, I take a mental picture of this guy. I mean, holy freak. This man is drop dead gorgeous, with his black hair that's longer in the middle and buzzed on the sides. And his gruff beard that's trimmed short but neat, it defines his jawline.
This man is huge! At least 6'6" like holy freaking crap. And the muscles. Oh my God I'm gonna faint.
Realizing I'm staring, I look back up at him. Then back down to his biceps that are being shown off in the black t-shirt he's wearing.
And as if my mouth has a mind of its own I blurt,
"You are really freaking gorgeous"
Hand flying to my mouth, and eyes as wide as saucers, I look back up at him and see a corner of his lips twitch. Just barely.
"Odette" I offer my hand.
He just looks down at it.
OK rude.
Moving on.
Side stepping him and giving a whistle to Wise who is currently trying to get Mr. Gorgeous to pet him. We head inside. This time not running into the door.

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OK, well what do we think yall? We kinda got an idea of Odettes life. As sad as it is. And we met Mr. Gorgeous as she likes to call him. What yalls thoughts? Lemme know
And don't forget to vote

Word count: 1463