Broken

Introduction

Layla's POV
*CRASH* "LAYLA GET DOWN HERE"
Oh no... I think to myself. I look over to my alarm clock, the only thing decorating my small room only to see that it was 2am. This might just be the earliest I've ever gotten in trouble... speaking of trouble, I should probably check what I did this time.

As I'm walking down the stairs as quietly as possible, I see Amy holding a shard of broken glass, probably from a cup she threw that I would have to clean up later... Amy is my so called mother, but she lost that title years ago, right after my father died of "unknown circumstances". I know Amy knows. She just won't tell me anything about it. She started drinking but soon enough she started going down a darker path.

She slowly moves towards me, her blue eyes staring at me with intent to kill. Her caramel hair with fake blonde highlights pin straight against her head with her tight, little blue dress on. She must've been clubbing. So it's going to be one of those nights again. Great, and I have a test today. It's already been hard enough to cover things up from teachers, and classmates, not that any of my oh so loving peers care. I didn't talk to anyone really. They used to ask questions, and I knew if I ever told anyone, everything would go to hell. Well, farther into hell. So I stopped socializing with them all.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Going to bed with dishes in the sink? A bitch like you doesn't deserve my house and all the things I do for you." I mentally scoff at that, like she's ever actually done anything for me. I'm the one who's taken care of the house. I've cooked for her and all the random people who float about our house. I had to pick up a job to support us both, because she's usually too drunk to get any food, or pay any bills.

Although I knew better than to argue, I couldn't help the words that slipped through my mouth.
"Those glasses weren't there when I went to bed. You just drank out of them and put them there. Just like you did last night too." I kept my eyes down knowing she was most likely going to hit me again. That was the norm in this house. She accuses me of things she did while drunk, or on her way to being drunk, then makes me clean it. If I'm good to her standards I get off with a few gibes and maybe a few threats. But if not, well, that's another story.

However what I wasn't expecting was for her to growl with eyes snapping to mine glowing a certain red shade, with hands stretched out reaching for my neck. She's hit me before, but never tried to kill me. She knows she might not live long without me supporting the house.

I tried the best I could to run, as I do each time, but after a certain amount of pain, my body gets weak. I'm 5 foot on the dot, and only weigh maybe 70 pounds. 10 years of taking hits, and chokes, and whipping, and beatings, and the occasional new boyfriend of Amy's that would like to join in. I don't know how much longer I can take it.

I took notice that I was cornered by her, and I knew I was about to die. I hoped for it even. After years of all the things you've been told, you begin to believe it. So I began to hate myself. When Amy saw my self made cuts, she only laughed and took a steak knife and carved new ones. Agreeing that I deserved it. It made her somewhat happy when I did it, telling me I was learning.

I came out of my thoughts just in time to see her fist coming straight at me.

That was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.

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HI!!!!! If you're reading this then thank you so much, this is my first book but I've always wanted to write something. It might be a little rough at first but if you have any advice I would appreciate it❤️