Addiction

Showing the wall a little love

My head was smashed into the hallway wall for the twentieth time in the last two minutes. Black spots clouded my vision and blood clogged my throat. My Fathers voice filled my ears with negativity and hate. "You stupid DYKE. You can't do anything right can you? Another fight, you fucking lesbo!" This was normal.

I remained an emotionless and lifeless corps. My Mother stood in the doorway, watching in a tipsy horror. This is what I get for being the spawn of two alcoholics. Things have definitely changed from when I was little. The roles have reversed since then. It used to be my Father, in his drunken state, swaying from side to side, watching with hooded eyes as my Mother beat the life out of me.

My Father has more muscle but my Mother knows how to punch.

My head was smacked off the wall for a final time and my hearing was filled with an almost static ringing. My vision was blurred and black appeared in it. I was left to lean against the wall and slowly slip down it. My head slipped down onto my shoulder and my Mother's face came into vision. She looked even more horrified than before.

It wasn't because of the bruise on my neck that would last for a week. Or the swollen eye that was forming. It wasn't the almost broken nose and the burst lip. Or the rib that was slightly prodding at my skin. She slowly backed away into the kitchen, probably to pour herself a cocktail with extra vodka.

The shocked look on my Mother's face and the stopping of my Father's hostility was due to the biggest grin I believe I have ever created was plastered on my face. I'll definitely feel this in the morning.