Chapter Four
SARAHS POV
I hop into my car and drive back home. It has been a week since I’ve met Niall, and I didn’t manage to get his eyes out of my head. He in combination with my pills help a lot to forget about my problems. We texted a few times, but nothing special. I don’t want his girlfriend to think he is cheating or anything, not that I’m sure about that girl. I still know nothing about him but his name, how he looks and that he’s Irish.
“SARAH, GET DOWN HERE” my mum yells getting me out of my thoughts. I put my phone away, hide the little pill bag after I took one, and get down to the kitchen where my mum is.
“What’s up?” I say looking at the papers that are spread all over the table.
“Take a look at those pictures” she tells me.
“They’re good, I like them. What’s the problem?” I ask looking through some pretty amazing pictures.
“No they’re not. You know that good pictures are nothing, I want great, excellent, perfect pictures. Not ‘good’ ones. Don’t you realize that you make me look like a fool with these pictures?”
Don’t you realize you already are a fool on your own?
“What did you just say?” my mum asks me.
“Nothing, I just nodded”
“I hear what you said. You said I already look like a fool on my own”
“There is no way you could hear that, so…”
“Oh shut up. I never wanted you anyway. I was supposed to be the model, not you. You don’t even deserve this. You never appreciate all the hard work I do for this!”
“Well guess what, I didn’t want this life either. I didn’t choose to be some fucked up woman’s kid. What if I never wanted to be a model, and if all I wanted was to go to college, and be a normal teenager? What if I never wanted you?”
“You know what? That is not my problem. I will now force you to do this, see it as a punishment”
“And what is the punishment for being a horrible mum who never takes care of me, who hits me, who takes all my money?”
“Having a kid like you! You have nothing to say here. This is my house, I pay the bills so I don’t care what you want or not. You also could’ve been a poor African kid who has to deal with hunger every day, so be happy you live here”
“Your house that gets paid with the money I earn” I yell at my mum, “and I think if I had to choice to be a poor kid or live this life, I would now be in Africa”
“You can’t prove the money is yours”
“No because you always spend it on things like alcohol”
“What? Are you saying I am an alcoholic?”
“Take a look at these closets and tell me you aren’t” I say while I open a couple of closets that are full with alcoholic drinks.
My mum walks towards me, and pushes me to the wall, my head hitting the corner of a painting; it falls down on the ground as the glass breaks.
“Let your punishment begin” my mum tells me as her flat hand hits my cheek.
YOU ARE READING
Living Louder - n.h.
Fiksi Penggemar*COMPLETED* Sarah Carlson was never the girl who’d ask for anything, all she wanted was a normal life but instead she got a crazy one. Flashing camera’s, hot lights and people changing her make-up and cloths every ten minutes. Waking up, quickly tak...
