Elixir

I

I sat at the back of the class, scribbling words into my notebook at the appropriate times courtesy to my attentiveness to the lesson. Frowning deeply at the unnecessarily large amounts of text I was supposed to write in order to understand the basis of the lesson, I erased some of the information I'd jotted down onto the paper and attempted to correct the facts. With a frustrated sigh, I placed my pencil down and glanced around the room. Most of my peers were either secretly on their phones or asleep, save for the few who were actually paying attention to the boring history lesson.

Joining the preoccupied bunch, I allowed my mind to wander back to the events that had occurred only moments before the final bell. I still felt the stinging sensation the slap left and my ribs were starting to ache much more from the kick I took, but it was a lot more tolerable than what I was used to. Granted the hit did hurt, it just wasn't as bad as last night's beating. I stared down at my notebook as the memories washed over me.

I'd just walked into the front door when I heard the sound of glass shattering. I instantly tensed and quickly dropped my schoolbag near the door. Fear overcame my being as I looked around the small entrance of our beaten down house. I didn't dare make a noise as I tiptoed to the short set of stairs that would lead me straight to the quiet protection of my bedroom. I strategically hopped up the stairs, avoiding the spots with obnoxiously loud creaks that would reveal my arrival. Once I'd gotten to the top, I dashed into my room and clicked the lock shut as quietly as possible.

Apparently, that just wasn't quiet enough. I felt the thundering footsteps of my mother's heels, before I heard them. A whimper escaped my lips as I braced myself for the inevitable. I quickly glanced around my tiny room only to find it in a complete mess. My mattress was hanging off the side of the wooden bed frame that had collapsed under the unequal distribution of weight. My vanity was completely trashed. All the makeup, hair ties, and bandages I'd used to cover up bruises, cuts, or burns were scattered all over the floor; and the countless bottles of concealers and powders that I'd stashed away were sprawled everywhere, liquid seeping through the white carpet and creating stains that would be nearly impossible to scrub out.

I jumped up at the sounds of my mother's loud knocks. A shiver ran down my spine, "Open this damn door right now, or so help me God you will not wake to see another day!"

I stared at the door, unsure of whether or not I should let my mother in. Either I get a beating now, or I was sure to face an unforgettable one tomorrow. I took a deep breath and braced myself. I hesitantly reached out a hand and twisted the lock. Not a moment passed before the door was thrust open. I was shoved back and landed on my broken bed. A small yelp escaped my lips. I glanced up, only to be met with my mother's feral eyes.

They were bloodshot, a telltale sign that she'd been heavily drinking. A foggy look encased her eyes. They were unfocused, however, my outcry sharpened her vision as her pupils dilated and her nose flared at the sight of me.

"You thought you could get away with it, huh," she questioned, with a dangerously low tone, slowly stalking towards me like an animal cornering its prey.

I lay stark still, afraid of riling her up or making the wrong move, however, my silence seemed to have the opposite effect. Her face was growing redder with each passing moment. My mind raced at the possibilities. What could I have done to make her this angry?

With my mind focused elsewhere, my mother took the opportunity to pounce on me. I held back a scream as her leg came into contact with my stomach. Instantly, the pain spread throughout my body and forced me into the ever so familiar fetal position.

"My hard earned money! You thought you could take it," another kick was launched onto my weak back as she continued, "well think again, you stupid, selfish girl!"