Nameless

3. Skeletal Monster of a Mother

Walking home in broad daylight was admittedly more terrifying than at nighttime. For one thing, the drug dealers were still selling their wares on the sidewalk; for another, my bruises were more visible, and they, being a sign of my weakness, increased my chances of being kidnapped considerably. When I saw my house, it took a lot of self-control not to sprint in the opposite direction. My mother was sitting on the front steps in her dingy worn bathrobe, chain smoking. She looked like a wreck. Her brown hair was greasy and in disarray, her skin was incredibly pale, and her green eyes looked sunken into her head. I started up the steps, and she made a point to sneer at me and jam the lit end of her cigarette into my leg.  I hissed in pain and clutched at the burn. When I’d brought my leg up to touch the mark, I accidentally kicked her in the back of her head with my heel. I didn’t even have time to think about apologizing, she acted so fast.

She lunged at me, and my head cracked against the rotting wood as my body hit the ground. I was stuck under her body as she straddled me, clawing at my face with her fingernails. I put my hands up to protect myself, catching her wrists and holding them away from me. She squirmed and kneed me in my broken ribs. I released her wrists and gasped in pain. She lost no time in wrenching my arms by my sides and slamming her kneecaps into them to pin them down. My eyes filled with tears, and I cried out as I felt the bone in my right forearm crack. My mother raked her nails across my face and down my neck to my chest with one hand, drawing blood. I thrashed about, trying to free myself from my skeletal monster of a mother. She screamed in anger as I forced my body up enough to free my arm. While she was still off-balance, I shoved her off of me and bolted.

I ran down the street; I didn’t know where I was going to go, I just knew that I had to get away from her. She flew down off the porch after me, but I kept going, sprinting down the sidewalk as if my life depended on it—it very well could have.

Despite being a habitual smoker, drug-addict, and drinker, she caught up with me. She tackled me to the ground; I put my hands out to catch my fall, but my right arm buckled under the pressure. I shrieked in agony as I toppled onto my arm, Mom right on top of me. In an instant, she began smashing my head against the sidewalk. I screamed every time my forehead connected with the pavement; every time my head was forced back off of the sidewalk, a larger puddle of blood was waiting for me to go crashing back down again.

And then, everything stopped. At first, I thought I was dead; it would have been a welcome blessing. I could still feel the pain, and my hearing was going in and out; my eyes wouldn’t focus, so I knew I was still alive. I could make out my mother crying and yelling, and masculine grunts. I focused on trying to clear my vision so hard that my brain was in even more torment. For a second, I caught a clear glimpse of a familiar male figure holding my mother off of the ground, and she was clawing at him and trying to get back to me.

I laid there for what seemed like an eternity, bleeding and wishing I could just die.

Then it all went away.

Searing bright light was the first thing I registered. So this is what dying is like. It’s quiet, peaceful. Less pain than I was expecting. Crippling amounts of pain rushed into my consciousness; every single nerve ending was alight, and it wasn’t pleasant in any stretch of the imagination. My eyes focused on a ceiling fan as the blades puttered through the air in their continuous route. I wondered vaguely if it would hold my weight. I sighed.

Immediately, I felt movement beside me. When I saw who it was, my stomach dropped. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Why me? Why now of all times? A shaggy blonde head appeared in my vision, worried blue eyes underneath a furrowed brow.

“You shouldn’t do that; you’ll get wrinkles.” I rasped in an attempt at humor. Chris’s looked slightly relieved.

“You’re alive.” He sighed thankfully. My eyes drifted shut involuntarily. “NO!” he yelled, causing them to fly back open. “Mom told me not to let you fall back asleep after you regained consciousness,” he explained, holding a glass of water in my face and grabbing a bendy straw so I could drink it.

“Thank you,” I whispered feebly. He placed the water back out of my line of vision. I was too afraid to turn my head to see where I was.

“Lori,” Chris’s eyes held more pain than I felt, and I knew what was coming next, “what happened?” I looked down, not able to look him in the eye. “Lori, who did this to you?” I still couldn’t look him in the eye; I couldn’t find the strength to tell him. “Who was she? Was she your mother?” my bottom lip quivered, giving me away. “She was!” he exclaimed, disgusted. He flew from his perch near my side.

I knew he would think I’m a freak. I knew he wouldn’t want to be my friend; I’d be better off dead. I thought, bursting into tears. Chris paled.

“She’s your mother; the woman who is supposed to love you unconditionally, no matter what! What the hell is wrong with her?” he fumed, “Oh, Lori, please don’t cry!” he clasped my hand. I looked over at him; he looked terrified. I gave a weak smile and squeezed his hand gently; it took all of my energy.

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll be okay.” I croaked, trying to be reassuring.

“You wouldn’t be if I didn’t happen to drive by. I would’ve had to read about you in the obituaries,” His face was sad, and I only then noticed the bags under his eyes, “I brought you home, and Mom called the doctor, and got him to come here. He’s got your broken arm in a cast, and wrapped your concussion. I’ve been sitting by your bedside day and night; I’ve been so worried you wouldn’t wake up. So don’t you pretend this isn’t a big deal. You could’ve died, and I couldn’t stand for that to be on my conscience. I couldn’t bear to know that I could’ve saved you, but I didn’t.” Seeing him like this made my heart ache.

“Thank you, Chris. Thank you for saving me, and for being my friend, even after finding out about everything. You have no idea how much that means to me. You’re the best and only friend I’ve ever had, and I wouldn’t be able to cope with losing you.” I earnestly told him. He smiled.

“You’ll always have me,” the sound of a door opening came from somewhere else in the house, and Chris rose from beside me. He took his hand from mine and kissed me on the forehead, “I promise.” He added as he slipped out the door.

Meh. Short chapter. Sorry! I've had a lot of stuff going on this past month, AP classes suck. This chapter is dedicated to Kyeire, because I told her I would in a comment on RHS (One of her stories), and just because she was born awesome... sooo, yeah. Please comment so I know how you felt about this chapter. :)