Safe.

Home Sweet Home

I hear a knock on the bathroom door, and an ask to come out. I wipe my eyes one last time and stand up from the closed toilet. I walk out and a man, old with gray hairs that moved used to be a brown, stands smiling at me,
"Hi miss, I'm going to take you home to grab your belongings. Is that okay with you?"
I nod a simple yes, but my chest burns when he says "home"
it will no longer be my home, just for the next few hours before I'm taken away from the woman who gave birth to me. Sure she did horrible things, but when she was sober enough she could be a wonderful woman. Laughing and smiling, and I would miss these special moments so much. But I knew I had to go. The man escorts me into a black SUV and gets into the drivers seat. He tries to make small talk but i only brush him off. When we get to the house he opens the car door and gives me a reasuring smile. I try to smile back and get out of the car. My moms car was there so I knew she was in the house. When I open the door the house reaks of alcohol. I make my way to my room that consisted of very little, the man followig me. As I get out a very old small suitcase and a big Adidas sports bag I pull out my cothes. Most consisted of band shirts or shirts without much color. The man decides to help for some odd reason by grabbing the most colorful clothes from my closet. When he isn't looking I take the out of the bag and put them under my bed. Once the Adidas bag is filled with shoes and clothing, I grab the small suitcase. I walk over to my dresser and grab a little framed picture of me and my mother. she looked so happy, her blonde hair pulled back and her mouth open as if she were laughing. I sat on her lap my hands put together, clapping. My brown hair was curly, with a small pigtail on the top of my head. I feel a warm tear slip down my face and I wipe it away, putting the picture in the suitcase. I then open my dresser and get out my books. Reading was my escape. Books opened new possibiities, closing the doors of bad ones. I only put my favorite books in my bag, being able to fit more room. When I'm finished I close the dresser. Then i get a decent sized shoe box out of my closet and stand on my bed. I get my posters and fold them neatly, putting them in the box. When I'm about to finish my mom comes in the room, sober for once. she holds a bigger suitcase and smudged make up caused from crying. I try to smile, but something inside me doesn't let me. I walk over to her and grab the suitcase, avoiding her eyes. she look hurt, but I can't be too sure. Next with the big suitcase I put in knicknacks. I was told I would get a bed, two small dressers, and a tall shelf case. I wasn't sure if I had to share a room but I hoped I didn't. When I finish I go to the garage and get black paint out. I didn't like white or brown or any other colored furniture so paint would become useful. I go to the bathroom and get my neccessities. I grab my bag and swing it over my shoulder, then get my two suitcases. with one last look at my mother I go outside and into the car. This was the place I lived in all my life. And even though I may seem like I hate my mother, I didn't and I don't think I could.