Empty Chair

Chapter One

This is the first chapter, I hope you like it...here we go!

Chapter One

"What the hell are you doing?"

I flinched back at my aunt's tone. "Studying for a test that's going to be given after winter break." I said, keeping the fact that I am failing that class from her. I don't feel like coming up with a new lie as to why I have a purple and blue bruise displayed on my face. Even though the reason I am failing that class, and many more, is because of her.

She giggled and stepped forward clumsily. "Be a teenager and go to a party, get drunk, have sex. But no, prissy little Heather is in her room at 10:00 on a Friday night, studying." She said the last word with a disgusted tone, much the same with her expression. It was very hard to not start choking on the smell coming from her mouth. Alcohol. I turned my head for a split second to inhale air and looked back to her.

"I'm trying to study, but you're not exactly helping my concentration. So could you please do me a small favor and leave?" I asked with the tiniest bit of aggravation in my tone.

My aunt stumbled backwards drunkenly, but when she found the slightest ounce of balance that was left in her high state, she glared at me. Next thing I knew, I was sent to the floor after having my Aunt Karen's open fist connect to my face. I lifted my hand to hold the spot where the familiar stinging pain was currently happening. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from letting the tears that were building fall. I will not cry in front of her and give that woman the self-satisfaction of using her nickname for me while saying, "Oh, does prissy little Heather need a tissue?"

My aunt gave me a despising look. "Don't you ever talk to me that way again. Just because your parents thought I would be a good parent for their kid if they ever kicked the bucket doesn't mean I have to play the part." My heart sunk when she mentioned my parents. She looked me up and down and spat, "Go make me something to eat."

"But I have to study." I mumbled.

"Raise your voice, God knows it's the only thing left in you that's not dead." The sad thing is that she's actually right. Everything in and about me is dead. Ever since what happened last January, I was never the same. When I didn't answer back right away, she grabbed my chin to force me to look at her with her cheap plastic nails digging into my jaw. "Go make me something to eat. I'm. Hungry." She said through her teeth. Her clothes gave off the stench of weed. I gave up on studying, as usual, and responded with what she wanted.

"What do you want to eat?" She let go of me and smiled. I hate that smile. I hate her being happy. I hate what she puts me through. I hate her. But I rarely have these thoughts anymore, because after a while I learned that they weren't worth thinking of. I learned that self-pity is not worth feeling, it is a waste. Nothing is ever going to change; nothing is going to get better.

"Steak, baked potatoes, sautéed green beans, a loaf of fresh baked bread, aaand homemade sweet iced tea." She requested. I thought about it for a second...oh yeah, the typical appetite of a pot head. I looked at my aunt to find her looking at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. I gave her a flat expression.

"You know for a fact that we don't even have enough money for one of the components that it takes to cook that."

My Aunt Karen snapped her head from looking at the ceiling to my face. She glared and threw a 20 at me. "Order me some pizza and then do something useful with yourself. Hell! For all I care, go out and don't come back. If you really want to make me happy, go drop off a 50 story building! -" Well if she doesn't care this much, I guess she wouldn't mind my failing in every class. "- get HIV, get pregnant, go get arrested! -" I tuned out of her listing things she "wouldn't give two damns if I did". Putting on a gray hoodie, I walked out of my room to the front door of the apartment. With my jacket on and ready to leave, I cut her off from the continuing annoyance streaming out of her mouth.