Carly hated going home, as far as she could remember. It was the hollowness of the mansion and the stench of her mother's 'precious' alcohol that made her hate it.
Every time she came home, her mother's tantrums would only get worse.
She saw her passed up on the couch, holding a wine glass and a bottle of red wine.
Although, she hated her. She couldn't remove the fact that this woman is her mother.
Her heart melted in pain and pity at the sight. She wanted to leave but she couldn't drag herself into doing so.
She felt nervous, going near her mother was something she wouldn't do, hadn't done in years. She always asked her father, who was too busy with work.
But as soon as she held her mother's head and laid it on a pillow, her weariness was gone, she felt intact not screwed.
Just as she was about to leave, a cold, calloused hand gripped her arm and yanked her.
She gasped in horror as she stared at her mother's bloodshot eyes.
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The Girl Who Had Scars || discontinued
Short StoryShe was hurt. She was broken. Every single day, she went to murder, battling against herself. She was afraid. She felt pain but hid it. And the scars were there to prove it. Starting date: November 1, 2015 End date:
