The room was full of quiet small talk. My eyes strayed across the room and met the glare of my mother's. She forced a sickly sweet smile onto her dark lips before I adverted my glance to the floor. I sat on the edge of an old, ugly couch as guests mingled all around me. My feet swung wildly in front of my body as I dug my fingernails into the coarse fabric on the couch.
My left foot met the leg of a different woman and she looked down at me in disgust.
"Sorry," I said with a half-apologetic smile.
The woman scoffed, stuck her surgically-perfect nose in the air, than turned on her heel and left the room. Within seconds, my mother crossed the room and was right in my face. My spaghetti-strapped, dark purple dress didn't feel as comfortable as it once did.
"What the hell did you do this time?" She hissed.
"Nothing, I did nothing," I immediately chirped out.
"Give me strength to not slap you, child," she spat.
"Try me," I smiled as fear crept into my veins.
She pressed her red lips together and inhaled deeply. Then, she turned to the crowd behind her.
"Hello, everyone," She said, "I'm afraid we'll have to cut this little celebration short. I'm not feeling well, so please leave my house."
A few people sighed but the crowd simultaneously turned and started to exit the house.
"Happy birthday, Karena," a few smiled as they left.
My mother let out a few short "thank yous" before she left the room. I stayed in my spot for a few moments and made sure everyone was gone.
With a deep inhale, I bit my lip as I pushed myself into a standing position. I took caution steps as I headed up the stairs and entered the first room on my right. My hand shook as I outstretched it and wrapped it around the doorknob.
The cool metal contrasted against my high body temperature as the door unexpectedly swung open and I clumsily tumbled to the floor.
I was pulled up by my bra strap, her grip tight and so unlike a mother's grasp should be. She looked me straight in the eyes, with brown eyes exactly like my own, before she curled her lip in disgust. She dropped me to the floor and I crumpled instantly.
"Why do you have to ruin everything?" She muttered.
"I'm sorry," I cried.
"Sorry's don't fix anything," she responded and pulled her leg back.
I closed my eyes and just wished. Wished for the world. Wished for a better life. Wish for just a chance. But I knew I didn't deserve any of it.
And as her foot harshly met my body, I could feel everything and nothing. Darkness was no friend of mine and I stayed conscious the entire time.
It might've been seconds, it might've been days, time was an enigma to me during that period. When she pulled back, her breathing loud, I whimpered. She laughed and I could almost picture the way she threw her head back in enjoyment.
"Piece of shit," she scoffed before my mother left the room.
And then, the tears were like rainfall in Liverpool, they started slowly and never seemed to end.
