Rush

Chapter 2

*Flashback age 16*

It was my sixteenth birthday and I had just come home from school. I walked into our small, dirty apartment and saw my mother passed out on the old, sunken-in couch, from whatever drug she had been using before I walked in. I walked over and checked her pulse, something that had become a routine since I was eight. Mom wasn't always an addict; she didn't start using until my dad died when I was seven. He was always such a good man, ready to help anyone who needed it and that cost him his life. I missed him and sometimes I like to think of what life would be like if he hadn't died. I was brought out of my daydream when there was a harsh knock on the door. I cautiously went over to open it and a man stood there.

"Hey kid, where's your mom?"

I pointed to the couch and he barged past me. He wasn't the first man to ever barge in here for my mother but he was a common face, he was here more than any other man my mother did who knows what with. He shook her awake and she looked happy to see him. She turned to where I was still standing at the door.

"Anastasia, honey, why don't you do mommy a favor and go to your room. I have some business to handle."

I knew business meant she was about to do whatever drug she was hooked on at the moment, so I silently made my way to my room. I plugged my headphones into the old iPod that my best friend Marisa had given me a few months ago. I was lying down on my small bed, half asleep when my door burst open and my obviously high mother rushed over and pulled me up and practically dragged me into the living room.

"Here you can have her, just let me get another fix, I'm all out of money and I'm sure you can find some use of her."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was my mother trying to sell me for drugs?

"Mom, what's going on?"

She completely ignored me and continued to look at the man who was now looking at me with a look that shook me to my very core and then he smiled. He threw my mother a little baggie of white powder and said words that shook me to my core.

"I'll take her."

That was the day that my life went straight to hell. It was the day my innocence was stolen from me. And three years later it was a decision made by my own mother that forced me to marry a man old enough to be my father.

It was all her fault. It was her fault that this man, my husband decided to use me like I was nothing but his personal prostitute. It was her fault that I was beaten every day for the last seven years. It was her fault that I'm pregnant with my husbands, my rapists' baby.

I think it's safe to say I hate her.