BRUTAL MINDS (A DARK ROMANCE)

CHAPTER 1- RAW HATE

It was getting late, past midnight but Allison kept watch, looking outside the window anxiously and fearfully. Her mother was yet to return. She kept pacing up and down their small apartment that was falling apart and so were several others in the slums where they lived.

It was raining and she had already placed several empty pots and pans under the leaking roof. But where was her mother? She looked at the time again, 12:45 am. Oh! Could she be in trouble? The twelve-year-old girl was worried sick. Just then she heard knocking at the door.

Mom! She thought, feeling a surge of relief as she rushed to the door and unbolted the latch. As always she was once again met with her mother's usual self, wasted, drunk, and laid. But yet, it was a relief to see her.
Why did you take so long again Mom? I got worried...
Get the fuck outta my way you little brat! She slurred, pushing her daughter aside and staggering into the small house.
Oh, mom...She sighed.
Have you done all the chores?
Mhmm. She nodded.
What?
Yes. I've done it all.
Then why did it take you time to answer? She snapped, holding her child roughly by the jaw.
But Mom I nodded.
Is that supposed to be an answer to a question? Patrice yelled at her daughter.
I'm sorry Mom...she whimpered, scared.
Come here you sleazy bum! Patrice pulled Allison by the ear.
Ouch! Mom, please...
You...you're turning out to be quite a thorn in my flesh...just like your worthless father! She yelled, slapping Allison on the face.
Mom...she cried out.
Urgh! She spat, disgusted by the sight of the child in front of her. Without another word, Patrice staggered into her room, leaving Allison alone, sobbing.

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Hair...hair...hair.....hair....damn it!

Allison cussed as she tied her rather wild red hair in a bun, it just wouldn't stay in place much thanks to her mother for never letting her get any proper haircare routine. You'd think they wouldn't be able to afford it due to their wretched living but her mother always had time for her vain self, spending her sinfully earned money on clothes, her skin, and hair whilst neglecting little Allison.

She kept tying her hair up. One thing though was that her hair was so bright red, it was the first thing people noticed when they saw her. It earned her a title "The Girl With Red Hair" It always made heads turn, wondering if it was her actual natural colour or if she just dyed it red. There were some disadvantages that came with having such bright red hair, she couldn't wear certain colors of clothes as they would horribly contrast her hair color making her look sour.

Colors like yellow, green, and orange were a huge no-no. So she had to stick with cool colors for outfits. However, the one season her hair was much admired and intriguing was Christmas! Her hair was the season's signature color after all, she felt more like the celebrant, and oh how her hair flowed and matched with her red Christmas outfits, she was always the most admired in the carol choir, and that earned her compliments as well as envy from her peers. But how did she end up with red hair when her mother wasn't? Both her parents had deep black hair.

Their neighbors once spread rumors about her being adopted and she would have believed them given how her mother treated her like dirt, if not for her grandmother's picture on the family photograph in the living room, sitting beautifully with breathtaking red hair. The achromatic camera had just been invented when the picture was taken, making the color visible in the picture rather than the usual black and white pictures, people of that age were known to take.

Allison! Here you are!
Esra?

Allison turned at the sound of her best friend's voice. They were both the same age and had been neighbors since forever and also inseparable.

Thank goodness you're here, help me with this huge pile of garbage. She sat down, handing Esra a comb and a hair tie.
You're almost late.
I know.
Your mother will be mad.
When is she never?
She's fuming behind the bar.

Allison sighed. Her mother owned a small bar in the neighborhood, and every night was a hectic one for her, serving drinks and food to the customers. A place where men would come, smoke to stupor, and get drunk and also where her mother would find a customer for the night to get laid and paid. Yes, she was a shameless harlot!

Where the hell have you been you little bum?!
Sorry, I'm late mom,
Sorry, you're late?! She pulled her by the ears.
Oh, I'm sorry...she cried out.
You'll be dealt with later for now you have customers to attend to. Hurry up!
Yes, mom, Allison nodded, scurrying away.
At the end of the day, her mother went away arm in arm with some Man but not before giving clear instructions to Allison.
Wash all the dishes and lock the door.
Yes, mom. But mom...?
What? What is it? What Allison? Must you always whine when I'm leaving?
I'm scared these people don't mean well to you, can you please stop...?
Patrice scoffed. Stop?! And if I stop? What then? You'll take over my place, won't you?
Allison gasped. No!
Good! Then keep that tiny mouth shut! This is the only way we get to feed and live since your pathetic heart eater of a Father left us penniless! Now if you don't want to be kicked out into the streets, which would be a pleasure by the way, then shut your damn gutter!