Artbeat

Chapter I

*Reader Discretion Advised*

The following chapter contains graphic and disturbing content, including scenes of domestic violence, alcoholism, and emotional abuse. The descriptions are vivid and intense, and may be triggering for some readers.

Please proceed with caution, and take care of your well-being. If you need to, take a break or skip this chapter altogether.

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- CARSON -

I pushed open the creaky front door. A wave of stale air wafted out, heavy with the scent of cheap perfume and whiskey.

The dimly lit hallway seemed to stretch out like a gauntlet, leading me to the source of the slurred murmurs and shattered laughter.

Home sweet home.

I put my bag down slowly. My heart raced like a trapped animal as I approached the living room, where the fading light of day struggled to penetrate the grimy windows. I had hoped it was one of those days she wasn't around. If that were the case, I'd head straight for my room, lock my doors, and bury my head in my blankets until the sun rose.

I let my eyes travel. The room was a battlefield, littered with empty bottles. My mother's voice, a slurred and menacing growl, cut through the air, sending shivers down my spine. The sound of her laughter, a cruel and mocking cackle, echoed off the walls, making me feel like a prisoner in my own home.

Home sweet home.

The air was thick with tension, like a coiled snake waiting to strike.

As I entered, her glassy eyes locked onto me, filled with a mixture of anger and desperation.

"Look who decided to finally come home", she applauded in her pity state for me as if I had done wonders, "My sweet sweet Maeve", Her words slurred together in a toxic cocktail of vitriol and self-pity, making my skin crawl.

Home sweet home.

She lifted herself from the stained carpet with the help of the couch she had been slumped back on. She made her way slowly towards me, limping.
I wanted to step back, maybe run, but I didn't want to look like a coward to myself.

Don't you dare say a word, Maeve.

"Do you think this is a place where you can just think to swing by whenever you feel like it, huh?", the sound of her voice, like a rusty gate scraping against concrete, made my mind race with escape plans and emergency exits.
I feel pity for myself for growing used to this - The room seemingly closing in around me, a suffocating trap from which I longed to escape. It wasn't normal to feel like always running away from home, just so to never return.

"I had to stay behind. I was helping around the school", I lied, my voice trembling a little even when I tried to steady it.

"Is it everyday that you have to help around the school-"

"Is it everyday that you have to take in all this cheap beer, leaving me to clean up after you every night?", I raised my head up, staring into her bloodshot eyes.

Dang it.

Her eyes, the same ones I once knew to be warm and loving, now blazed with a fierce, alcohol-fueled fury.

She took a step back, immediately picking up the shattered beer glass nearest her like a weapon. I stared wide-eyed at the object she had in her hands. My breathing picked up as I took a step back before slumping onto the ground as all the strength I had known to have had left my body. Just like that.

The jagged edges glinted menacingly in the dim light, like a predator's teeth, ready to strike. The air was heavy with the acrid smell of stale beer.

Her voice, a slurred and venomous snarl, cut through the air, "You think you're so superior now, don't you? I'll put you back in your place", the words dripped with malice, each syllable a threat, as she took a step closer, the glass held high.

My mother's sweet smile. Her hugs before school. Game night with both my mom and dad. Her butter cream cupcakes. They're all distant memories that are as good as long gone.

My fight or flight senses kicked in. I crawled, struggling to get myself back on my feet myself and made a run for the exit I regretted having come in through in the first place.

The sound of her breathing, heavy and labored, like a wounded animal, filled the air, making my heart race with fear as she ran after me.

Tripping on the unnoticed stone by the door, I flinched at the friction after hitting the ground. My mother had caught up to me, with a devilish smile plastered on her face, I anticipated the impact of the broken glass. Its shattered edges poised to strike, like a deadly claw. I still couldn't comprehend how much of an influence the alcohol had on her. This never happened before. But this is how it ends.

As the shattered beer glass slashed down towards my cheek, I felt a searing pain, like a hot knife cutting through my skin.

I fell completely to the ground, head facing the pavement, the sound of the glass shattering and my own cry of terror merged into a single, piercing shriek.

I raised my head at the same time my mother planning to strike again before suddenly, a strong hand grasped my mother's wrist, halting the glass mere inches from my face.

The pressure on my cheek eased, and I opened my eyes to see a blurry figure standing firm, their grip unyielding. The sound of my mother's enraged snarls and the figure's calm, assertive voice formed a stark contrast. The very familiar voice brought me to awareness of who it was immediately.

What?

Mr. Donovan, out of nowhere, like a beacon of hope piercing through the chaos. 'That's enough", he said, his words a steady anchor in the storm.

As my vision cleared, I saw Mr. Donovan's determined face, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness. He had stood up for me, shielding me from further harm.

Did he follow me here?

I didn't have the courage to face him. Nor did I have the guts to let a single tear drop. I felt his eyes fall in my direction while still keeping my mother's hands trapped in his.

I got up slowly, my legs already wanting to give up on me. But I wasn't weak. I proved that a lot to myself, and I can prove it to everyone around me.

I glared at my mother and went back inside to grab the school bag I had left at the entrance.

Not sparing a glance at Mr. Donovan and my mother while I exited the house, I speed walked my way to an unknown destination, abandoning the both of them.

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