Compassion- Lookism

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ E i g h t y O n e ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

  ⊹₊𓆩ʚɞ𓆪₊⊹

⊹₊𓆩ʚɞ𓆪₊⊹
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆‎‧₊˚✧ line!Pt.2- Ano Bashode ✧˚₊‧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
⊹₊𓆩ʚɞ𓆪₊⊹

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨  Irene's POV  ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

        I don't know why im surprised to fnd my mom standing outside the door on the door matt. I brush my sweaty palms against my pants, leaving some fur from previously petting the dog chained outside. Seeing her stand in the dark with the streetlight as the only source of light burnt my heart. I felt as if my body was shriveling up on itself as I can see the clear lines of worry drawn into her face. Her eyebrows are pinched together, her feet shuffle as shes pacing back and forth, her hands run through her short, curly, frizzy hair. Shes frantic, and it's my fault.

    "Mom," I call out, my knuckles turning white and my eyes blurring with threatening tears. I see her whip around quicker than ive seen her move in a long while. I watch as the worried display fades, the wrinkles softening into relief. I watch as the relief has hit her as our eyes lock. Her eyes widen with a glassy texture paning over her pupils. I immidately feel likee crying, knowing I worried her so heavily.

    She hobbles over on her slides and rushes to envelope me in a hug. She's even shorter than what I remember her to be. She's eye level to my collarbone and envelopes me in a hug where I have other tilt my head to the side. Her scruffym, course hair scratches against my jawline. I love the warmth, but the desperation almost makes your hug drown with waves. She grips against my body tightly as if im trying to run away now.

    "Irene," she sniffles as she steps back, her hands still wrapped around my upper arms. She scans me head to toe, looking for any injuries. Shes looking for anything to reveal her inner thoughts. The only wound is the gaping hole in my heart though. The guilt has worn me through worse than ever. Once she sees theres no physical injuries, I see her face twist and I flinch. "Where were you?!"

    She screams so loudly I question if the entire neighborhood has heard. I tuck in my shoulders, turning my side to her. I know what to expect now, and I deserve it for how horrible my mother looks now. She slaps my arm, swinging at me for the hurt ive put her through. Theyre weak, so they don't hurt, but this isn't meant to hurt. Mom has always been like this. As she gives me weak swings, my mind flashes to when she scolded and screamed at Logan once she found out he was bullying Daniel.

    "Im sorry, mom!" I raise my voice as she stops, huffing with fists clenched at her side. She's not mad. I know her. Once we both take a second, I adjust the biting grip of my bags all connected to my arms as if they are leaves on a branch.