◇The Hybrid◆

chapter 6

my head is woozy. my finger throbbing.

i crack my eyes open, not opening them all the way. 

i look down at my finger, but i am unable to see my skin because it's covered in gauze.

i reach out ot unwrap the gauze, but a voice stops me.

"i wouldn't do that. your finger needs to be left alone for a few days" 

i snap my head in the direction of the voice.

that was the voice that helped me get better.

the voice that took care of Derek's temper.

the voice that saved me from.. my mother's temper.

~ ~ ~ FLASHBACK ~ ~ ~

"CONNER! GET YOUR SKINNY LITTLE ASS DOWN HERE AND CLEAN UP YOUR FUCKING MESS!" 

conner moved his little legs as fast as he could and sccurried down the stairs to clean up his coloring books and crayons.

when he reached the table, he stacked the thin paper books and put his crayons in a small pile. he stuffed the crayons in his pockets and picked up the stack of coloring books. 

(just so you guys know. conner is three in this flashback) 

all she told conner was to do exactly what he was doing, but she didn't like that.

she slapped the books out of his tiny little arms and violently grabbed the very little amount of crayons he had. they were the only ones left that weren't broken. 

she put the crayons in her fist and crushed them. she scattered the remainings of the crazyons all over the living room and kicked the neat pile of books he made. 

"I SAID CLEAN UP YOUR FUCKING MESS YOU STUPID CHILD!" 

i could see the tears to build up in his eyes, but like the strong little boy he is he refused to let them spill while she was watching. 

he bend down to pick up the mess my mother made but she kicked him over.

"PICK UP YOUR SHIT!"

he crawls on the floor and neatly stacks all the books again. he picks up all the tiny crayon pieces and keeps them safely in his small hands. he gets up off the floor and begins to walk over to the trash can in the kitchen.

he empties the destroyed crayons into the trash and walks back to the living room. he quickly gathers all the coloring books in his arms and walks up the stairs. never letting a mumbled word fall out of his mouth. 

because he knows that if he attempts to say something she will slap him for mumbling and not saying it clearly. 

"now that's more like it! my living room is finally clean!" 

"what about all of your shit?" i say confidently, knowing i will pay for my words.

she scowls at me and narrows her eyes. "what the fuck did you just say bitch?"

"what about all of your shit? it's all over the place! and you blame conner for having three little books and five small crayons!?" 

"well someone is overly confident today. its almost as if you're asking for me to beat you"

"you can beat me all you want. but you don't lay a hand on conner, do you understand me?"

"are you telling me what to do? i am your fucking mother! you do what i say! not the other way around!"