Sub Zero

Chapter One

What would you say if I told you that one person could change your life forever? If one boy could make you love your twisted life? Would you tell me I was crazy, or would you accept your own insanity and enjoy the journey?
Would you believe me if I told you that fire and ice could mix together and create something beautiful? I didn't believe it at first, either. But now, I'm grateful that I do.
~
Crystal!" My mother's voice echoes through the house and into my cramped bedroom. I groan softly, my muscles aching from sleeping on the hardwood floor where I had collapsed the night before.

I begin to stand, my legs wobbling as I do. "CRYSTAL!" My mother yells again. I suddenly feel dizzy. I feel as if I'm about to fall, but my arm instinctively shoots out and presses against the wall, steadying me. Memories from last night cloud my groggy mind. I make my way to the door. I can feel a headache coming on. My temples are throbbing.

I would rather stay in my room, where I'm safe, but I can take anymore of her shouting.  I turn the cold, brass doorknob, then step into the dim hallway of my house.

I find my mother in the kitchen. She rummages through her purse, strands of her artificially orange hair falling loose from her ponytail and brushing against her cheeks. She looks up when she hears me enter the room. Her look of frustration suddenly morphs into a mask of surprise. She gasps and the purse falls to the floor.

Her chocolate-brown eyes are wide as her pale hand flies to her gaping mouth. I can only stare at her as she realizes what happened last night. "Crystal, I'm so sorry." She gently whispers as she cautiously walks up to me.

She reaches up to touch the ugly purple bruise that has formed on my cheek. I flinch and jerk my head away from her hand. She looks hurt. I could care less.

She bites her lip, then slowly
pulls her shaking hand away from the empty space that my swollen face occupied.

I exhale and watch her turn around to face the opposite direction of me, her shoulders sagging and small frame shaking slightly. "You know I didn't mean to," she begins,"I truly am sorry. I swear, I had no idea what I was doing."

I shake my head and laugh dryly. I walk over to the counter and pick up a cold, metal flask. I pretend to examine it closely. "Hmm. I see." I turn back around to face her. "Wouldn't you like to see too, mommy?" She flinches, then slowly turns her head around to look at me with her large, dark eyes. She's beautiful. At least, her appearance is. Until that day, Mrs. Smith was always the ideal wife and mother. That changed all too quickly. She preferred bars and men over her only daughter.

"Hey, wasn't this completely full last night?" I ask with false curiosity, turning the object that reeks of vodka around in my hands. She hugs herself and suddenly becomes very interested in the shuttered window that looms over the living room. Morning light tries to break through the heavy black curtains and into the suffocating darkness of our home.

"Yeah, actually, I'm pretty sure it was." I continue. "You know, if someone drinks this much it can poison them and fry their liver. You know, there's a possibility that if you can harm yourself with this mere liquid, then you can harm others. But, I mean, that's just my logic."

She slowly turns, tears streaming down her face. She glances at my ugly injury and lets out a sob, quickly turning her gaze down to the marble linoleum floor, a look of pure guilt and shame plastered upon her face. "I said I'm sorry!" She yells. "It's not like I can control it! Do you have any idea what kind of pain I'm in? To have lost my soulmate, then have to care for my bratty daughter on my own?"

"Bratty?" I yell. "Wow." I draw in a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. "Mom, you know I miss dad as much as you do. He was my father. But that was a long time ago. I think we need to move on." My voice cracks.

Her sobs violently shake her body. "I try, Crystal! I try so hard! I want to be a good mom, I really do! But I can't shake this feeling. I can't get over this grief. I have to use other... things, to help me."

"Please, I know it's hard. But look. Open your eyes! Do you really want our lives to end up like this? With me waking up every morning with a bruised body, and you having to feel the guilt of it?" I ask, desperation laced in my voice.

"No." She whispers. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me." I nod, then place the flask back on the counter.

"I think you need to go to rehab, mom." Her eyes widen, and she rapidly shakes her head. "Oh, God, no! Do you know what it's like there? It's pure humiliation!" She grows quiet. "And the pain. It would come back. It always does."

I'm not surprised, but I can feel my stomach sink. "Okay." I whisper. "Okay. I understand." I grab my sunglasses off the counter. "Crystal, please! You always leave me!" My mother pleads. "You know, Ellie," I spit her name, "You should really rethink your choice of hair color. If it's nauseating to me, I'm sure your 'clients', won't appreciate it either."

She brings a frail hand up to her pumpkin locks. "Bye mom." I say as I slip on the glasses and head for the front door. "Take care of yourself, ok?" I say as I push it open. She slumps down to the floor.

"Wait!" She reaches  out to me. "How long will you be gone?" A tear rolls down her cheek as I glance over my shoulder at her. I pause, staring into her eyes through the glasses. The silence that follows the question is almost deafening. "I don't know." I finally answer. With that, I slip out the door and carefully pull it shut. She won't follow me. She never does.