Confessions of a Bitch

Running Scared

“Mummy and daddy are spending the day with me.”

 “You’re wrong, Amanda. But then again, you’ve been terrible at playing the guessing game.”

The words ring in my head over and over again, like a song on replay as I throw myself off the couch and run upstairs. The game plan has changed. Everything has changed. I throw my phone on my bed and clutch my hair.

This cannot be happening.

The room starts to spin. My breath gets heavy. I fall to the floor.

This cannot be happening.

I can’t breathe. God, I can’t breathe.

This cannot be happening.

I need help. I want my parents back. I want my life back.

I can’t breathe.

Viper has my parents. Viper has my parents. She’s going to kill them.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Where did my entire existence go wrong?

I can still hear Viper’s voice in my head. She’s going to kill my parents. Then she’ll come after me.

I open my eyes. The room spins faster than ever.

My parents are going to die. My parents are going to die. She has my dad. She has my mum. I take one last intake of breath before passing out on the floor.

+

My face burns when I regain consciousness, but I don’t care. For a moment I wonder why I’m on the floor. My head aches and my vision is hazy. I crawl towards my bed and rest my back on it. I run my hand through my head and take a deep breath, trying to remember why I woke up on the floor.

I look at my open window. It’s getting dark outside. Mum and dad should be home by now. I slowly stand up and make my way to the edge of the stairs. “Mum, dad, are you home?” There’s no reply. The house is silent. I frown and knock on their bedroom door. “Mum, dad?” Still no reply.

I bite my lip and head back into my bedroom. Why aren’t they home? I pick up the phone and call my mum. I wait as the phone rings and can’t help but sigh in disappointment when it takes me straight to voicemail. “Please leave your message at the end of the beep.” The mechanical voice at the other end of the line says.

“Hey mum, it’s me, your devil spawn. You and dad aren’t home yet and I’m just wondering when you’ll be arriving home. You could call, or pick up your phone! I know you’re having a great time..” I force myself not to think of what they could be doing. “But remember that you also have to think about what I’m going through back here. So yeah, call me and just come home. Oh and one final thing, I think we’ve run out of bread. Bye.”

I end the message and toss my phone on the bed. I head downstairs and turn on the television to Fox8. Strike Back is on. Fuck yeah. The show is amazing. I begin making myself some spaghetti for dinner. I also make a mental checklist that we’ve also run out of mincemeat. It’s not my fault I added too much to the sauce. I love my mincemeat. While the food is cooking, I open my school bag and take out my books. I think of burning them but put them in the cupboard instead. After all, I’m not going back to Belfast High anytime soon.

When my food finishes cooking, I quickly dish it up and sit in front of the television, watching a series of shows on Foxtel. When it’s eleven at night, I turn of the television, place my dirty plate in the sink, lock the doors and windows and return upstairs.