Left for Good

Chapter One - Departion

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Opening my eyes, I feel them get stuck with sleep and doubt, upon the day ahead. Rubbing them slowly, to wake up. I sit up, turning onto the edge of the bed.

"Out here. Now." I heard my mother screech. Her voice was raspy, sounding like a crow, due to screaming at me, much more than I like.

A sigh leaves my swollen lips, a dark pink, lingers among each, the bottom more full than the top.
I make my way out of my room, looking down at my oversized pajama shirt and raggedy shorts.

I stop in front of my sofa in the living room. Staring at my mother's shoes, awaiting the awful words she speaks and hollers at me in the morning.

"Go. Out of my house, now." She speaks, less filled with her loud, booming, angry self, and more with breath and air. She grasps her sleeve, fiddling it and itching her skin. Her crazy eyes looking at me.

"What - what do you mean?" I stand, waiting for her response in utter confusion.
My mother has never been fond of me, usually starting my mornings off with hate filled, bitter, anger towards me.

My mind wandered to the other day, when I woke up, to her senseless shaking and pinching. She was mad I didn't mop the hallway floor correctly, I did try my best at it, but years of cheap shoe stuff marks didn't make their way off, entrapping dirt in the flooring. I rub my right arm, feeling the bruised marks push into my skin.

"You're 18, I now have zero obligation for you legally, and I thought I made it clear that I've despised you." Her words grow angrier and wicked till the last.

"Please mother, I have no where to go. Give me a month please, I don't even know anyone." I begged her, my eye brows causing creases to my pale face, sheer worry written on it.

I tried hard to make her happy, everyday. I've been stuck in this tiny home, doing chores and whatever I could find to fill my time, hoping to become good at something to make her proud.

Not good enough

I was never allowed out. Not allowed to talk to people, make friends. I haven't been inside school, since she un enrolled me in elementary. I was supposed to be home schooled, but her hate for me grew, she never taught me a single thing.

I tried to study on my own, with the books I found in my father's old study.

Not intelligent enough

"I don't care. Out my house." She spoke, anger dripping from her tongue. More frantically rubbing her arm, switching to the other.

I stand there, not able to move. I have no clue where to go, no money, and nothing of value to sell. My feet glued to the floor with fear, of what's to come to my future.

" Get OUT of my FUCKING HOUSE." she screamed, fully entangled in anger and hate for me.

I ran to my room, having no response. I grab my only backpack, from when I was in school, 10 years ago. I filled my small backpack, with various clothes, and my blue bear. Not owning much, not even a phone, I feel unsure of what to bring. Putting on my shoes, with no socks, I walk to living room. I looked my mother in her wrinkled, crinkly face.