Annabelle Luther.

Eleven: Winter Break. (Edited)

Winter Break.

It had officially been winter break meaning that it was now a wonderful time for me to not see any of those little devils for the next two weeks, granted that I still have to deal with Athena. Carefully making my way into my mom's kitchen with Evita in tow, I watched as she danced around to some Christmas songs. My eyes widen a bit as my mother started to shake her ass to the beat of the remixed song, causing me to shield Evita's eyes. The horror of the sight in front of me caused dread to consume my very being.

"Mom! What the fuck are you doing!?" I screamed, watching as my mother gave out a scream as well before she rushed to turn the music off. Her cheeks had burned a dark shade of red as she turned around to look at me, her hands clenching her speaker close to her chest in an attempt to muffle the music that is still playing. Sighing heavily, I made my way towards my mom and grabbed the speaker, turning it off, allowing the kitchen to fall into silence. She stared hard at me before she reached out and slapped my shoulder a few times, screaming at me for almost 'sending her to an early grave,' as she liked to put it.

"I thought you weren't going to make it. You didn't make it for Halloween or Thanksgiving,"

"Mom, you're the only person in the world that thinks Halloween warrants any celebrating as an adult, and I told you that I would be here for Christmas, on Thanksgiving," I casually spoke as I pushed my mother aside and started to pick at the turkey she had pulled out of the oven before I scared her. My mother slapped my hand away, causing me to groan from this.

"You didn't say anything about bringing your girlfriend,"

"Yes, I did. I told you that I missed Thanksgiving this year because I made a deal with her about spending it with her family and her spending Christmas with my family. I literally sent you an entire email about this because you weren't answering your phone," I held my hand out towards Evita, waiting for her to hand me the gift I had gotten my mother. To my surprise, Evita stepped forward and handed the gift to my mother instead. My mom stared at Evita with suspicion before she opened the present to find a custom-made rose pendant with a pearl in the center of the rose. My mother stared at the necklace with adoration before she held it out to Evita and turned around, telling Evita to put the necklace on her. Evita stared at me with a faint smile of hope before she carefully clasped the necklace around my mother's neck.

"This is absolutely stunning. Whose idea was this?"

"It was Evita. I was having a hard time figuring out what to get you. I opted to give you a gift card to that bakery you never shut up about, but she went above and beyond by suggesting that I have a special necklace made with your birthstone and favorite flower." My mother turned and looked at Evita before surprising the both of us and embracing her in a tight hug. I guess this had meant that my mother's opinion of my girlfriend had changed.

"Does this mean you like my girlfriend?"

"I never said I didn't like her, Annabelle. But, you never come around for me even to have an opinion on the girl. You're my only child that is actively not being a whore and dating every person that shows up in their life," I raised an eyebrow at this and watched as she gave out the most exaggerated sigh ever. This caused a laugh to escape my lips, "I swear, Athena has brought every guy and girl she meets home. Do you know how gross it is to see your seventeen-year-old daughter giving some guy head because they haven't heard of a bedroom?" The look of disgust filled my face, which caused my mother to mimic this look as well before she broke into laughter. My mother's humor had been so twisted it was short of a miracle that none of us had developed it.

"Why not just send her to boot camp or something?" I asked, allowing my eyes to roam over the kitchen counter until I had seen the bag of baby carrots. Stepping towards the counter, I reached into the bag, grabbed a hand full of carrots, and put one in my mouth. My mother glared at me before she shook her head with a heavy sigh. That was not a good sign. Keeping my eyes on my mother, I watched as she leaned into the counter behind her and crossed her arms. Putting another carrot into my mouth, my eyes took in my mother's face. She had looked older than usual, almost as though her age had finally caught up to her, but I had the feeling that wasn't it. I think, deep down, this divorce and all of the years of abuse had finally taken their toll on her.