Alone

"Ethan!" My mother's voice roared through the whole house bouncing off the walls. What was she mad about this time? Something stupid, I thought. "Get down here!"

Letting a sigh escape from my lips, I walked downstairs to face what punishment she had for me. Was it going to be a punch in my ribcage or a flying glass to my face? I wouldn't know, it always caught me off guard even though I expected it. What I do not understand is how can she do this. Does she not have a heart? Does she really hate me that much?

My fingers slid against the railing to the stairs thinking of how smooth it was. I looked everywhere but at my mom. Even though I wasn't staring into those soulless eyes of hers, I knew she had anger written on her face. In fact I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a smile on her face, not the fake one she puts for her co-workers at the accounting firm. Only if they knew the evil that lived in that woman after she drank herself to oblivion. Maybe they'd take me away and put me in a better home. That'd be really nice. Maybe they would like me or in a perfect world even love me.

Looking down at my bare feet, they seemed a lot more interesting than dealing with my mom. I could practically smell the vodka in her breath. It was making me nauseous. I looked up for a second and stared into the eyes of the woman that raised me. Well, only for the first five years of my life, before my dad left. After that, it was me raising myself while she was never there. She wasn't always abusive. In fact the abuse didn't even start until after I was ten. It's been now five years and it never seems to stop.

I looked up for a second and stared into the eyes of the woman I call mother. Since she doesn't like being called mom. I learned that the hard way.

*Flashback

2 years ago

"Ethan! Look into my eyes when I am talking to you! How dare you embarrass me in front of all those people in the park."

I looked up to meet my mother's eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. I try not to cry because I know how much she enjoys my tears, my screams and most of all my nightmares, knowing that she is the cause of them all.

"I am sorry Mom..." I try to reason with her. Now that I think about it, I could have easily avoided it. But I guess I am worthless and stupid.

"How dare you disrespect me! I raised you, when I could have easily kicked you out of my house. I let stay here even though it was your fault my beloved James left. Be grateful to me you brat I am letting you stay here when I could have easily kicked you out! The government does not pay me enough to go through this!" She yells before dragging me by my arms towards the closet. The very closet where my grandmother shot herself. Not even caring that there was a 9 year old in the house. In fact it was I who discovered her body in the closet. The same closet that made me Castro-something. At least that's what the doctors said it was. I looked it up and it meant terrified of small places. But mother she used it as the worst form of punishment. This wasn't the first time she left me there but it was the longest. Three whole days in there, not seeing anything but my memories and hearing my silent cries. She left me in there for three days and two nights without food or a blanket. She did leave a mug of water but that didn't help since I spilled it all because of my constant shaking from fear. I didn't hear anything else after she left me locked in that tiny prison. I repeated the same thing over and over again. "It was not my fault. None of this is my fault."

*End of Flashback

"Did you tell anyone?" I look up to meet her gaze. I didn't want her to know that I was lost in my thoughts so I kept my mouth shut.

"Answer me!" I flinched at the hostility in her voice. I couldn't exactly tell her that I had no idea what she was talking about as I knew that would guarantee a heavy beating.