My Life As A Cheater.

Chapter Six- Brenna

Copyright @ Shelbsters15

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by all means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hola, people! :)

It's been a while since I've updated. I've been working on this off and on when I can, I've just been so busy, so sorry!! I'm horrible! D:

Thanks for voting on the last chapter!

Well, thanks for reading this chapter! If you are, you're awesome! :D

I'm going to try to update quickly, because I'm excited to do Jayden's pov. So, hold on. :)

Hope ya'll like this chapter! Don't forget to vote and comment!

Thanks.

-Shelby. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cheater: misleader - someone who leads astray (often deliberately)

</3

Brenna ♡♡♡

After I take a quick shower and get dressed in something comfortable (A sweatshirt and sweat pants), I head downstairs to do a little cleaning.

Hopefully, tomorrow won't be as bad as today. I think Mom took today worse than normal, because this was the first time that I haven't been around since we moved here.

And no, I'm not just making excuses for her.

The house is extremely quiet as I wash the dishes. The only sound that I hear is my dog lapping up the water that's in his water bowl.

Dad's the one who gave Mister Wiggles to me. He gave him to me a year before he died. When I was growing up, I always wanted a dog, but my parents never let me have one, in fear of it complicating things and stressing my Dad out even more.

But, on the morning of my thirteenth birthday, I woke up to a little nine pound, brown little dog, standing on my chest, staring down at me with it's little tail wagging and mouth hanging wide open, looking like it was smiling.

I remember that day perfectly.. It was one of my most favorite memories of my Father.

After figuring out that it was a dog that was on top of me, I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to where Dad was laying down on the couch with a quilt wrapped around him. He had the biggest smile on his face, like he knew how happy I'd be.

Not even thinking I could hurt his fragile body, I hugged him, happy tears coming to my eyes.

"Thank you." I told him, backing away and smiling. "Thank you so much, Daddy."

He just smiled, not having the strength to form words, but with the little color that showed on his pale and baggy cheeks, I had just also made his day.

I choke back on my tears, and focus on the dishes. I cannot cry anymore. I have to be strong for Mom.

It's hard always being the strong one. Sometimes I wish that she would be the strong one every once in a while, but she's just always been in her own little world. Even the day of the funeral. It's like she didn't even recognize that I was hurting too. It's always been about her.

Wiping off the counter with the dish rag, I decide it's time to change my thoughts. After I get done with this, I have to pick up the living, I'm not going to vacuum, because I don't want to wake Mom. Then I'll start supper, cause it should be around five... Then maybe I'll be able to eat and watch TV in peace.

Peace... That sounds pretty nice.

^^^

For supper I'm going to make a very fancy dinner... Pizza Rolls, and to drink, I'm going to have a very fine grape juice.

Okay, so yeah, I know it's not the most awesomest dinner, but I happen to like Pizza Rolls.

After I place the Pizza Rolls in the microwave, I grab the TV remote, and decide what I'm going to watch.

The Middle is the best thing that's on. I think that show is pretty funny... One question I would ask the parents though... Why would you name your kid Brick? Seriously...

Anyway, I turn that on, and the microwave goes off.

Ugh, my life.. I'm always so busy.

I run and grab the food, turn off the kitchen light, and then sit on the couch, turning the volume up on the TV just loud enough to where the sound won't float up to Mom's ears.

Around eight, I hear Mom moving around up there, and I mute the TV, and sit up straight from my laying down position.

I was expecting her to get up, but I wasn't expecting her to get up until tomorrow morning.

She comes down the stairs making little groaning noise.

"Brenna?"

"Yes?" I bite my bottom lip, not moving.

"Where's the Tylenol?"

I turn my head to see my brown eyes staring right back at me.

Except my eyes probably aren't blood shot like hers are.

"It should be in the bathroom cabinet." I mumble quietly, turning my head back to the TV.

I don't hear her walking away, but I feel her staring at me.

"Honey," She whispers. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly my side starts throbbing again, and tears try to come to my eyes, but I push them away.

"Why?" I look at her. "You apologize all the time... But, you always do it again."

She doesn't start crying because she was wrong, no. Instead, she puts her arm on her hip, and gives me a firm stare. "You know I was under stress."

"I'm under stress all the time, Mom, but it doesn't mean I'm going to drink and hit people."

"Oh, I didn't hit you that hard."

I scoff, and point to my side. "I have a bruise, Mom!"

I've never really tried to talk to her about changing.. But, I'm tired of this. I don't mean to disrespect her, but if that's what it takes for her to see what she's doing to me... Then that's what I'm going to do.

For a second, her eyes flash in concern, but it changes back as quick as it came, and she rubs her forehead, mumbling something about how she doesn't have time for this and she has a headache. "I need to find some relief for this."

I sigh, and say the one thing that has been on my mind for the longest time. "I think it's time to get you some help."

Her hand snaps down, and she gives me a look so hard, that I shut my mouth shut, and I lean back into the couch.

"Shut your mouth, Brenna. I do not need 'Help'. People who need 'Help' are too far gone, and I am perfectly fine." She throws her hair over her shoulder, and turns around to head up the stairs, but she continues to glare at me. "Never say that again, got it?"

I nod my head quickly.

And that's the end of that conversation.

^^^

After Mom slammed her door shut, I ran up to my room, locked the door, and cried myself to sleep.

That night, for some reason, I dreamed of that boy from art class yesterday. The boy who told me to put my phone away.

It was the most peaceful sleep I've had in months.