Paying the Price - Chloe Price x Reader a Life is Strange Fanfic

1 - Home Sweet Home

The trees blurred past me and the wind brushed against my face as I drove my motorbike down the road. I'm coming from a place just north of Maine.

I'm turning the corner around a hill, when the smell of the sea air hits me. And when the trees stop and the road comes out to the coast, I can finally see the ocean. It's definitely been a long time since I saw it. At least twelve years.

Taking a deep breath I feel my muscles relax somewhat, this will be good for me.

I slow down somewhat as I drive along the front road, past a cute little diner with a lit up whale-shaped sign that clearly stated that it was the "Two Whales Diner".

I also pass by a small convenience store and the Blackwell Academy before turning off the main road and down a street lined with little houses. I pull into the driveway of a white, two story house that looks like it's been closed for a decade and climb off my bike.

I set the bike on it's kickstand and pull my helmet off my head.

I walk up to the front door and knock. Silence. I knock again, still silence.

I notice that the door is open just a crack and I push it open with my foot. It squeals like it's hinges can't hold their own weight. "Mom?" I call. No answer.

I take a step inside, then another, my black boots creaking loudly on the hardwood floor.

The strong smell of alcohol, vomit and body odour makes my stomach churn as I walk deeper into the house.

I can hear the faint sound of snoring as I walk into the living room and I find a thin figure sleeping on the couch. Her (h/c) hair, is matted and in places sticking to her face with sweat. Her skin is an unhealthy pale, but at least she's sleeping on her side. It's not good to fall asleep on your back while drunk, because if you vomit, you could choke on it in your sleep.

As I walk deeper into the room, I can see there's an empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table and that there are other kinds of empty bottles all around the room. A wine bottle here and there, and scotch bottle on it's side under the bookshelf...

I walk out of the living room, and into the kitchen, not disturbing my sleeping mother.

The kitchen is filthy. The sink is full of dirty dishes, a vomit stain by the fridge on the black and white tile floor, all the plants at the window sill are brown and shrivelled, some just pots filled with dirt.

I walked over to the fridge and pulled the stainless steel door open to be greeted with an even worse smell than the house, sour milk and rotting food. I grabbed a water bottle from the bottom shelf and slammed the door closed, which still didn't wake my mother.

I opened the cupboard above the oven and pulled out a clean glass before walking back into the living room.

"MOM." I said gruffly as I slammed the glass and the water bottle on the coffee table.

The thin figure grumbled and sat up straight, rubbing her eyes and squinting at me. "(y/n)? I thought you were coming home on Sunday?" she asked putting a hand on her forehead from the hangover headache.

"Mom, it is Sunday." I said, opening the water bottle and pouring her a glass of water.

She looked down and muttered "oh."

I picked up the empty whiskey bottle and tried to contain my anger as I all but yelled "So this is where the money Dad was sending you was going?" I said, my anger showing in my voice.

Something in my mother snapped and she stood, levelling my gaze with one containing almost as much anger. "That is no way to talk to your mother young lady!" she spat.