Unwanted

Chapter 2

Running through the woods was an escape for me. Running was an escape, from my world. When I run, I can forget the world around be and just focus on my feet pounding on the dirt while I ran. Or how my arms swang back and forth. I didn't think about anything else. But when I got home it was a different story.

Chapter 2

I walked quietly through my sliding glass door to my bedroom. I didn't want to wake up my mom. I looked at the time on my Ipod and saw it was 7:00pm. "Shit" I whispered. I've been gone for about four hours. My moms bound to be awake.

 "Nicole!!" I hear a shout from upstairs. "Speak of the devil" I muttered under my breath.

I quickly throw my Ipod on my bed and run out my bedroom, towards the stairs.

"Nicole! Where the fuck are you?" I mother yells.

"Here!" I shout while jumping up the last step to land in the hallway. I walk over to her voice, which is in the living room.

Once I stepped foot into the room I could smell it, alcohol. My eyes shot right to her, I saw my mom slumped over the coach with bottles of alcohol all around her. She was swinging a bottle of vodka around with muttering curses under her breath.

I pretended not to notice all the bottles and looked at my mom. "Yes mum?" I ask quietly.

"Where were you?" She asks dangerously quite.

I flinch from the venom in her voice, and slouch my shoulders in defeat.

"I was on a run......" I let the sentence hang in the air.

..1...

...2

3..

"What did I tell you about going out!?" She frantically yells while trying to stand, but falls back on the coach.

I stay quite knowing it's best that way.

My mom finally manages to stand from the coach after a couple tries, but in her drunken state she sways and starts walking to the kitchen.

"Come with me now!" She shouts right by my ear while she passes me for the kitchen.

I sigh and walk after her.

My mom walks to the drawer on the left side-which I know all too well- and grabs the metal spatula. I flinch when I see it. I hate spatulas so much.

My mom walks over to me- more like sways- and stands right in front of me and raises the spatula. I raise my hands over my head and yell "Wait! wait wait mom! Please! I was only out for a couple minutes" I lie. She sees straight through my lie, I've never been a good liar.

It seems to have angered her more that I lied, and she brings the metal spatula on my right arms that's covering my head.

I gasp but bite down on my lip to hold back the scream that's threatening to come out.

She hits my left arm, harder than the right.

A screams files out of my mouth before I can stop it.

I throw my hand over my mouth to stop. But my mom slaps me across the right cheek, like earlier, and my head files to the left. I hear a snap but don't pay too much attention to it.

 "Go clean your room! And Do. Not. Leave. The. House. Again." She says through gritted teeth.

 I spin on my heel and run to the hallway, that locates the stairs for downstairs. I take two at a time and run the rest of the way to my room. Once I'm in my room, I slam the door and walk over to the bench on the end of my bed.

 In front of me is my screen door that I didn't close. I must have forgotten when my mother called. It's dark outside now, probably around 8:00pm. But I couldn't care. I don't have to get up earlier, I'm on summer break.

Sitting on the bench, I bring my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them and put my head on my knees.

I let the silent tears fall. I should be used to all of her abuse. But I don't think a child ever 'gets used to' a mother hating her daughter.

I don't even know what I did wrong to get her to hate me.

That thought makes my body rock with another sob. But I hold it in.

 I just don't understand why she does it-

My thoughts get cut off to the sound of a door banging closed, next door.

That's strange, no ones lived there since the Robins moved. I guess they finally sold the house.

The sound of the screen door opening next door makes my next snap in the direction of the noise.

 A boy walks out- my breath hitches- that's no boy, more like man.

He looks to be about 17 or 18. With a tall build around 6'2 and muscular, you can basically see his 8 pack popping out of his white V-neck and black jeans. His face is pure perfection, with his honey colored eyes and blonde hair that looks like hes runs his fingers through it a lot. He has high cheekbones, and the perfection noise.

He catches me staring at him, and frowns. He probably thinks I'm some weird girl who just stares at random people.

That thought makes my cheeks heat up, and I can imagine my face red.

I give him one last look before I stand up and close my screen door, but he doesn't stop staring, and that makes me blush even more. I know I look like crap between my puffy red eyes and messed up hair from my run. This is embarrassing.

 But as he looks at my face, he seems to zoom in on it. And something he sees surprises him. He lifts his eyebrows, but quickly returns to his frown. I frown to. And close the door, and walk back to my bed.

 I wonder what he saw.

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