Leading to Freedom

Introduction

It all started when Maria came to live with us, well it went downhill faster than before. My mother's and I's relationship had been rocky from the start. We never had that bond like most mothers and daughters had. You see, my mom has six children in all, me in the middle of all. I was the third child of my mother's, but the most independent(and smartest- don't tell my brothers and sisters). But as I said, it all when very downhill when Joyce moved in. I remember the day when she moved in with us-

"Rachel!" My mom yelled for me. I threw my journal under some laundry, as I got up into the coldness of my room. Leaving the warmth of my blanket. I set off to my calling mother, not sure of what she wanted this time. Sometimes she just wants me to go get something for her at the store. Other times she wants me to cook dinner or make me watch the kids, while she does something.

"Yes mama?" I asked patiently, waiting for her demands.

"Do the dishes!" she snapped, holding a crying 10 month old child. "They've been annoying me, piling up. God, why don't my children ever do anything right?" She asked herself.

"Yes mama," I muttered, turning to the kitchen. Why does it have to be me all the time? My brothers are more than capable.

"Wipe that attitude off your face, before I do it for you!" My mother yelled at me, as if knowing what I was thinking.

My frown deepened even more, as I walked. The two boys were in their room, most likely watching YouTube videos, having the time of their lives. As I looked over at the sink, I saw that there was no space left for even a single spoon to lay on. I let out a small groan, careful not to let my mom here, in case she yelled at me again. As I did the dishes, I sang songs in my head. Most were from before, before I was the slave of the house; before my mother stopped loving me.

Maria had long since moved away, still visiting every chance she gets, including all holidays and some week days. Maria is my older sister's grandmother, and had moved in about...three, no two years ago. That may not be the longest time to some people, but to me...it was a lifetime. It was funny how perfect the timing was. My mother had just given her a brand new car and in return Maria moved away soon after.

"Hey mom, Can i have some ice cream?" My older brother walked in, bobbing his his with both earbuds in.

"Sure." She smiled. Great more dishes to do. "Rachel!" my mother said. "Make a bottle for Max."

"I'm not the only one living in this house you know." I whispered to myself. "Sure," I said semi-sweetly. "Anything for you."

Again my mother started blabbering about us never doing anything to the two baby boys she was watching, while I did all the hard work.

~~~~~~

I pulled out the green journal-full of secrets from my life, under a pile of clothing and set to work. Starting on a different page I wrote down something my mother had done to me about a year ago, when I didn't have one.

One night about a year ago I had gotten mad. Mad at my mother treating me differently, mad her for acting like I was a stain on her favorite shirt that wouldn't come off. I didn't think I belonged there, I still don't think I belong there. But I had yelled at her for telling me to do all the dishes. Not just washing them either, I also had to dry them and put them away. I don't know what got into me, I started storming off to my room when I brushed my mother's right shoulder just the slightest bit, enough to where she could feel it.

"I don't need that attitude from you missy!" She yelled, her voice most likely blaring into the neighbor's apartment behind us.

"Sorr-" Before I could finish the word I was on the ground, my glasses askew a few feet from my feet. Tears blurred my already non seeing eyes. I shut my eyelids to wipe away what I didn't want her to see. If she did see the tears, she didn't acknowledged the fact. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you," I breathed heavily, trying not to bawl my eyes out, while whimpering silently.

"Don't act like you didn't mean to bump into me! I know you meant to do that." She yelled angrily,"And just for that you're grounded, from everything. Give me your phone." As soon as she had finished the last sentence I bolted for the stairs. Soon after I got to my room my phone buzzed. It said:

Mom-

I'm taking you to a therapist, you need to stop with this attitude and the crying.

"Wow," I had thought. So much for her not saying anything about the crying. After giving her my phone, I had ran to the safety of my room. Getting under the blanket, I noticed my sister's kitten cuddle up with me and I fell into a deep sleep.

I closed the journal and set it in my hiding place, the back of my closet. The closet and the house reminded me of the dursley's house. My closet was a Harry potter cupboard, sometime I would sleep in it, feeling safe. Safe from everything around me.

~~~~~

So this is the entry to my new story, Leading to freedom. Please comment and vote as you please. I would love to see any suggestions you might have. This chapter is a little short, but they will get longer throughout the story.

Also, if you have any ideas on what genre I should put this in please tell me.

- Victoria