The Inceptive Flame⎪✓

❨24❩

♀︎

Waking up by a loud sound coming from downstairs, I look at my phone, 3:54 AM. I literally have school tomorrow and I need my sleep, it's simply essential for me to be able to get through the day. Especially since I had to carry my dad upstairs to sleep at 1 AM, he was too heavy for me alone, but my mom had disappeared at some point during the evening. Eventually, I got him into bed, but it took me half an hour and ended with my dad crying from embarrassment, even though I begged him not to. 

Yet another sound comes from downstairs and I quickly jump out of my bed, my sweatpants and t-shirt are good enough. Walking out of the room, I tiptoe down the stairs making sure that it is safe for me to be in this house altogether. Right now, the fact that my dad sleeps so heavily is a blessing. 

"Why-" My mother slurs and my eyes roll on instinct, "The stove... annoying ass stove. I shouldn't buy... crap.. like that."

She is standing in the kitchen, hunched over the kitchen table. Throwing her head back, she takes five big gulps of the whiskey in her hand, before staring angrily at the stove. My mind considers walking back to bed, but no part of my body wants to leave her alone down here in this state. 

She slides down to the floor and drinks from the bottle again, her eyes are red-rimmed and it's very obvious how drunk she is at the moment. My eyes sting with the promise of tears, but the stronger side of me tries to stop them, it's not needed for me to be crying right now. She requires my help, but I'm stalling because it's unknown to me which version of drunk she is. 

Straightening my back, my feet carry me into the kitchen before my mind has the chance to agree. She doesn't acknowledge my presence and that is enough to tell me how far away her mind is. Sitting down next to her, I tuck my legs under my ass and slowly take the bottle away from her grip. She tries to grab it from me, but I remove it completely. 

"You need to go to bed, mom," Sighing at her.

"No," She groans and as she tries to stand up, she locates the bottle again, her eyes light up and she takes another round of gulps. It's difficult to be too rough, then she will become angry and that will wake up my dad. 

Her small frame wobbles into the living room with the alcohol and drops down by the dining table, a groan of annoyance is the only reaction she gives before drinking again. This can't be happening, she is literally killing herself with every sip she takes. 

I stand up and follow her. Slumped against the wall in the corner sits my mom, drinking away from her bottle. Maybe it is time to be rough with her, it would kill me if she drank herself to death right in front of me. 

Sneaking up on her, not that I will ever be discovered because her mind isn't with me in this room right now. Grabbing the bottle from her hands, I hurry into the kitchen and empty it into the sink, ignoring the yells of protest. She comes into the kitchen as the last drop falls from the bottle and her eyes change from their usual light blue to a darker one. 

"Do you..." She slurs with a pointed finger, it's not aiming at me even though that probably is her intention. "Leave me alone."

As her hand grabs the empty bottle I refuse to let go, only pissing her off even more. Soon it's a tug of war, I'm stronger than her when she is this out of it. Her eyes roll to the back of her head multiple times and it's obvious that she will pass out soon enough. 

"Let go, mom."

Something clicks in her mind by my words and she rips the bottle from my hand, smashing it against the kitchen table in the process. Anger is all there is on the recognizable face, she raises the rest of the bottle into the air. The shards are now a weapon and I don't think she even knows it. 

"You are a disappointment," She spits and swings the bottle aimlessly around the air, pointing it at me. "I don't know.. You control, meddle, annoy... I am your mother, do not meddle with my life."

"Mom, stop," I take the last step backward as I am stopped by the kitchen table. Her eyes flicker around and she keeps swinging the bottle too close to me for comfort, she is not there anymore. I can probably take her down, but my consciousness won't allow me to touch her like that. 

"Penelope," I say, testing the waters. There is no change in her expression until she swings the bottle roughly one last time and there appears a sudden heat on my cheek. Clutching it with my hand, all I see is red. She fucking cut me. 

Before I know what I am doing, my hands push at her shoulders and she falls onto her back on the ground. It wasn't even a rough push, but she is so far gone that she can't catch herself. Grabbing the bottle, I throw it into the trash can and pull my mom by her arms dragging her into the living room, where I manage to throw her onto the couch. My cheek is stinging and the trickling of blood stresses me out, I don't want it on the carpet. 

Leaving her down here, I hurry up the stairs and into my bathroom. Looking in the mirror, the blood is running down my cheek and onto my neck. It looks worse than it feels, and as I clean it the gash is around 1 inch. It's insane what my life has come to, but I can't acknowledge that right now, it will only upset me and I don't have the time to be unsettled. 

Cleaning the wound, I hide it behind a medical plaster and pray that my friends won't question me at school. That is the last thing I need along with my black eye, also since I'm not allowed to wear sunglasses in class. Dragging myself into my room, I crash on the bed and hope for the best tomorrow.