The Crashing of Opposites

Chapter 6

Jenna

Thursday 

The sound of glass breaking downstairs woke me from my slumber. I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes, this can't be good. With some hesitation and even less confidence, I make my way to the kitchen where loud sobs can be heard from. 

"Mom?" The sight that welcomes me makes all the hesitation vanish and my feet move on their own accord. Waffles lying everywhere, in the sink, the floor, one's even sliding down the window while the source of the wailing lies in the corner with blood trickling down her forehead. 

Deciding to question her later, I grab her upper arms making her stand up and wrap my arms around her waist and shoulders. Her size and weight are similar to mine so supporting her up the stairs to my room isn't a hard task, but what is an impossible task is getting her cries to stop. After sitting her down on my bed, I grab the medical kit from my washroom. As soon as the alcohol touches her cut, her cries become hisses and hiccups.  The cut starts from her widow's peak down to the corner of her hairline above her left eyebrow. Doesn't need stitches and the scar will be covered if she lets her hair down. After putting a large bandage, I sit beside her, softly patting her head. 

"Mom, what happened?"

"I-I was making waffles for breakfast and I kept some for you but he found out."

I take a deep breath trying to process her words. I am to blame for this, aren't I?

"Mom, you know I'm only allowed an apple. You didn't have to do that, he would've figured out that I ate the waffles one way or another. Besides, I don't even like waffles." I love waffles, who doesn't? 

"I know you love waffles, I've seen how you look at Alex's plate every time I make waffles. I'm trying, okay? I'm trying to make this better for you."

No, we're not just talking about waffles and apples. I stop patting her head and hold her shoulders, looking at her to make my point as clear as day. 

"I know, Mom. But please don't try. It's been going on for too long and there's no point in intervening now."  With that, I wake to my closet to take a shirt and some shorts for her to change into. But when I wake out, the bed's empty. I look around and sigh when I catch a glimpse of her bedroom door closing.  

Is it bad that a teeny tiny part of me still hopes that she'll actually stand up for me? Is it even worse that the hope has been alive for 18 years now?  Ofcourse I realize that it's only impractical to still hope but she's my mother, the one who's supposed to protect me from all evil, the one that wipes my tears, the one I should be shopping with or having tea parties with.  Small things matter to people who don't have them. Family nights, movies, dinner, laughing. 

With a final huff of air, I decide to get ready for school.  By the time I finish taking a shower, it's already 7:30, leaving me only half an hour to get my flat ass to school. Ah biscuits, there's no way mom's going to drive me to school either so I'm going to have to get my sweaty flat ass school by running. 

I hurry to my closet, grabbing my full-sleeved blue crop top and black jeans while combing my wet hair. With my bag and wallet, I run down the stairs, barely managing to put on my shoes without tripping. No dad in sight- good, actually great. Now run. 

Exactly when I enter the school, the warning bell goes off. Students eye the sweaty and messy girl who's huffing her lungs out with her hands resting on her knees. I'm not a runner, okay? 

Gathering all the remaining strength I have, I make a beeline to the lockers to take my Biology books and slam the locker shut- the bang echoing through the now empty hallways. When I make to the classroom, I'm met with an old man's eyes staring at me but with luck on my side for once, the final bell went off.