Red

Chapter Fourteen

A/N:

+TRIGGER WARNING+

MENTIONS OF ABUSE LATER ON IN THE CHAPTER. I WILL PUT A WARNING RIGHT BEFORE AND RIGHT AFTER. 

***

Chandler POV:

I pull the car into the driveway, and I'm already scared. 

I move sort of slowly, wanting to delay this as long as possible. Veronica's optimistic. She has hope that this might not be as bad as I predict. Her hope even rubbed off on me for a second, but I know that it's all going to go to hell as soon as I tell my mom. Dad won't even try to argue. His perfect daughter getting herself knocked up in high school? Not in this good, Christian household.

As I take my bag and go up onto the porch, I'm already prepared for the worst. I packed a bag a few days ago in the case that they won't give me time to pack, but maybe if they're feeling merciful, they will. There's no way I won't have to leave. They care more about their reputation than they could ever care about me, and having a pregnant daughter just makes them look like bad parents.

I push all of the nervous thoughts out of my head as I walk through the door. Something feels tense already. I'm not sure what it is, but I have a pretty good guess. I know my dad's at work, but Mom doesn't work anymore. She tried to have another baby when I was in middle school, about sixth grade. She had a miscarriage, however, and she took it hard. She's been a steady alcoholic ever since. Something tells me she's been drinking even more than usual.

"You're home already?" I hear her slur, and she saunters into the room. There's a glass in her shaky, bony hand, and it's filled with something gold in color. I can't tell if it's rum or whiskey, but whatever it is, it's what's caused her intoxication. I just stand uncomfortably in the foyer. 

"It's four o'clock, Mother," I say, keeping my voice calm. She moves closer to me, and though she's still a few feet away, I can smell the alcohol on her. She absolutely reeks. 

"What the fuck do you look so nervous for?" she asks, squinting her eyes as though she's trying to read my expression. She's never been able to before, so I doubt it'll be much use to her now. The fact that she could sense my nervousness is a little unsettling, however. 

I set my bag down, only now closing the door behind me. "I'm not," I say firmly. "I just had something to tell you." I take a deep breath, looking down at my feet and then back at her. Okay. I can do this.

"We're burning daylight, Heather," she snaps. "Spit it out."

"Mom, I'm... I'm pregnant," I say finally. 

An angry glint appears in her eyes almost immediately, and she takes another step closer to me. The smell gets worse, and now I'm sure it's rum in her crystal glass. I can hear the ice rattling. "What the fuck did you just say?" she asks me, her voice dangerously quiet. I swallow the lump in my throat. 

+T/W: ABUSE+

"I'm pregnant," I repeat, doing my best to hide my fear. What happens next is a blur. Her fist swings towards me so quickly that I can't dodge it, and I cry out in pain, dropping to the floor. I clutch my face where her fist made contact with my face. Tears spring to my eyes, and it takes me a moment to register how much it hurts. 

"You're ruining your fucking life! You're ruining mine!" she exclaims, and I look up to see that her face is contorted with rage. 

I don't know how to respond.  She's hit me before. A quick slap across the face when she's drunk, whether it be for coming home too late or saying the wrong thing or being disrespectful, at least in her mind. She's never punched me before, however. 

She's still clutching the glass in her hand, and the glass shakes even more. I can hear the ice rattling, the anger overtaking her. "Do you know how hard it is to have a kid who throws her life away? To have a kid who's a slut?" 

She's absolutely fuming, but I'm still speechless. Tears are streaming down my cheeks now.

"Get the fuck out of my house," she says, her voice dropping back down to the dangerously low volume. When I don't move, still stunned, she screams, "Get out!"

+END OF T/W (ACTUAL ABUSE PART)+

I scramble to my feet, starting to hyperventilate. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. I run up the stairs, almost tripping on the way up. I know where my bag is, my suitcase full of all of my favorite clothes and shoes and makeup. I want to lie on a heap on my bed and cry, but I know I can't. I have to leave. Now.

Once I have the suitcase, I drag it down the stairs. My vision is blurred, and I can't tell if it's from the pain or from the tears in my eyes. I grab my school bag which still sits by the door. My mom isn't in the foyer anymore, and I don't wait around to find out where she's gone. Once I have my bag, I'm out the door.

As I get into the car, I try to calm myself down. I didn't prepare for the worst case. Worst case would have been her telling me to get out. Her voice would have been raised, and maybe I would have been slapped, but not punched. I can already feel the bruise forming around my eye. I'm going to need a lot of makeup to cover this.  

I finally calm myself down enough to drive, and so I do. I pull out of the driveway as fast as possible, and then I'm flying down the street away from the only home I've ever known, and from the only family I've ever had.

I just have to get to Mac's house. Once I get to Mac's house, I'll be safe. I'll finally be safe.

***

A/N:

Hey there, friends. I know this was super angsty, but I promise the next chapter will contain more fluff! I will honestly probably publish that in around a half hour from now. I know that the updates on this book are super random (I honestly go from one a week to five a day), but I hope that's okay with you all! I hope you liked the chapter despite it's severe angst, and as always, don't forget to vote and comment if you're feeling up to it! 

Thanks for reading.

-LittleMissBlitz

P.S. I'm going to try to add a cast to this book if I can because I forgot that different people played the different characters on stage, and I want to clarify who I'm writing about! Thanks again for reading, guys!