Saving Mattie (nh)

Chapter 22: A Day of Firsts

My right hand flew to my mouth as I struggled to stifle my giggles. They would occasionally burst out from my fingers, which only made me giggle more. I could feel my face going red, and I gasped for breath. "I-" I panted, my hand covering my chest to calm me heaves, "- s-so don't be-believe that."

Niall laughed, his hand clutching his ham and Swiss sandwich. "It's true! I had to get rid of the pants, of course, but the memory will last forever."

I giggled a little more. "B-But h-how did you man-manage to sit-t o-on the cake?"

Niall shrugged. "I have no idea. It was just... there."

I giggled again, imagining a five-year old Niall sitting on a cake. Oddly enough, it wasn't that hard to picture.

Niall winked at me cheekily before going back to demolishing his food. I gazed at it longingly. I haven't been allowed to eat solid food for ages, and it's really bugging me. I've been stuck in this hospital for three weeks, healing up, and last week I started rehabilitation. I was really battered, and the concussion and body trauma had made me forget certain skills, like walking and hand-eye co-ordination. I couldn't even talk without a stutter, but the doctor said it would fade in a few days. Although Niall assures me that it's been mucky outside anyway, I still miss it. I'll need to stay in the hospital for another day or two, then I'll be able to sign myself out.

My mum's in custody, although the police that talked to me and got a report say that she's going to jail for life. The evidence against her is just too stacked. Sometimes when I'm awake in the middle of the night, Niall slumped in the hospital bed across from me, I think about her. How she used to be. I can hardly remember, but I know she was better. The one memory I constantly ponder is the clearest one I have; My sixth birthday. I remember her strutting in, a white box in hand, and when she opened that lid, she gave e the most genuine, heartfelt smile. Her eyes had twinkled, a merry bright blue, and her smile was pure. She had bought a cake, scraping up money to get one from a nice bakery across the city. After buying it, she walked all the way back home, without dropping it once. That was the mother I loved.

Looking back, I realized just how much she had changed. Her appearance had deteriorated, the lean frame she held becoming bone. Her eyes grew darker, clouded over by hate. She knew what was happening to her, you could tell. She was scared. Scared of becoming the monster, giving into the beast that had consumed her. Niall was right though. She needed to take her pain out on someone, and I was the closest target. She would get her joy by feeding off me, practically enslaving me to do her every command. I was tortured, verbally and physically, although when I was young I didn't understand. The slaps, random punches. By the time I realized it was abuse, I had become so used to what she did, that I didn't see the point in telling anyone. Every day, she's call me names, so often that I had begun to believe it myself. She had drilled it into my head, that I was everything she said. Fat, ugly, worthless. She was the one role model I had, so when she said that, I was brokenhearted. But I trusted her judgment.

"Mattie? Are you alright, you spaced out."

My eyes flashed up to Niall's, who was worried. He thought I was depressed or something, even though I wasn't. I just think a lot.

"Y-Yeah, I'm f-fine." I stuttered. Damn speech impediment.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes studying mine. Whenever he did that, my heart wouls leap into my throat , a blush would rise to my cheeks and the heart monitor would go crazy, making him smirk. I rolled my eyes, but nodded. "Y-Yeah, just w-wanted some of tha-at sandwich."

Niall sighed. "But, you're not allowed solid food babe!"

Internally smirking, I made my eyes wider and pouted a little. My bottom lip jutted out a little, making the stitches stretch a little. Seeing this, Niall groaned. "Okay okay okay. Have a bite."