Unmasked

Chapter 2

After another tiring two classes, I can finally head home.

Yay, note the sarcasm.

I open up the doors to exit this disgusting place called high school, and soon get lost in thought, just like any other day.

Sometimes my own thoughts can be like notes you'd write down to remind yourself of everything you have done, or have yet to do for the day.

Sometimes being lost in thought is a dangerous thing, and can hurt you more than anything.

Today is Tuesday, October 5th, 2017. Mom and Zach should both be home today, I'll have to cook them dinner and clean up around the house.

That is, if there's any food in the house.

If not I'll just make a trip to the store and pick up some food, with however much money mom will give me.

I don't even know why I call her mom, she stopped acting like one 4 years ago.

I'm more of a mom then she is, I cook, I clean, I go to the store and pick up groceries. I get an education, so I can get out of this shitty town.

She's not as bad as Zach at least. She won't hit me, or lock me in the freezing basement.

In fact she won't talk to me, the only time she does is when I do something wrong or when she comes home on late nights drunk. I wait for her at the door, so I can take her shoes off and help her get to bed.

She says I'm weak, heartless, and that I only care about myself. Apparently, my attitude is always why I get in trouble at school, or even at home.

She says I'm selfish for wanting to leave her, to leave her family.

Verbal abuse is still abuse.

I wouldn't even consider this a family anymore anyways, this family broke me. This family hurts me.

I trusted my mom, I trusted Zach. They all broke that trust, and they left me broken too.

I've decided to not trust anyone, no one else can break your trust if you won't let anyone in.

No one can see my scars, no one can see that I'm hurting. And no one can know that I'm broken.

I'm used to keeping it all bottled up in me, I don't need anyone's help.

What was I even thinking about again? Oh right, dinner.

—————

I walk up the 2 pairs of steps leading up to my 'home' and take a glance at it.

The door is a big wooden one, the dark wood color it used to be is now a light brown, and there's small pieces of wood coming off of it.

The railing to hold onto when walking on the steps is old and rusty.

The windows are covered up with planks to hide everything that goes on inside this house. They're falling down now, and I'm sure Zach will make me fix it.

When looking up you can see my window, it has a small hole in it from when Zach punched it. The glass that had fallen was used to cut me with.

I still have that scar on my right arm.

I shivered at the memory.

The grass is too tall and needs mowed, the flower garden just consists of old and new weeds, replacing the once beautiful flowers.

There's planks on the roof that have fallen off, some pieces of wood even have moss growing on it.

On the side of the house there's a small bathroom, with a small window that can open and close. There's a ladder where you can get on top of the roof.

I have a small hangout up there, you can't see it from any side of the house when looking up, so it's pretty secluded.

When I need to get away from my crazy family I can go up there and hide. It's my own little space, and I know no one can hurt me when I'm up there.

Our neighborhood consists of a lot of houses that are worn down, and in dire need of repair.

I'd have to say ours isn't the worst, but not the best either.

Most people that live in this part of town are either drug and alcohol addicts, or old people that can't afford much else.

So, I guess there's your tour.

I open the door slowly, peeking in to see if anyone is in the living room.

Immediately I'm welcomed with the stench of strong alcohol and liquor. Just the scent of it makes me want to gag.

My moms sleeping on the couch, and Zach is probably in his room drinking.

I drop my old book bag that I've used for 4 years on the cold, dusty floor.

Normally I'd take my shoes off, and just wear socks. I hate shoes, but the floor is too dirty today and I need to dust soon.

I quietly tip toe my way to the kitchen and open up the pantry. Crackers, peanut butter, and pasta. That's all we have in there. I close it again slowly, making sure it doesn't make any noise.

I look on the kitchen counter to see two spices, salt and pepper.

I turn to the fridge and open it. Beer. Lots and lots of beer. Behind it all there's some milk, butter, cherries and pears.

I grab the cold butter and place it on the counter, and again quietly close the refrigerator.

I look up to see my mom still laying on the couch, but moving around a lot.

She must be having a bad dream.

I sigh and look away, seeing her like this always upsets me.

I open the pantry again and grab the pasta and pot, so I can make some buttered noodles.

————-

They probably don't want a cold dinner, I'll have to wake them both up.

I sigh and make my way towards mom and Zach's bedroom.

I open the door slowly so it doesn't make much noise, and I peek my head in. Their room is a mess with many beer bottles all over the floor, and stains all in the carpet.

I walk towards their bed slowly where Zach is lying down, a tv remote in one hand, and a bottle in the other.

I clear my throat and look down. "Uhh d-dinners ready." I say, loud enough for him to wake up.

He groans and throws the bottle next to my feet, some pieces of glass break and go into my foot.

I scrunch up my face to stop the screams and tears from coming out.

"You better not have ate any of the food." He glares at me, and slowly standing up.

He grabs my face roughly, making a small whimper escape my lips, which is barely heard.

"Did you?" He asks, still holding onto my face forcing me to look him in the eyes. He squeezes my face, making it hurt even more.

"No." I whisper, "I didn't eat any." I respond back to him.

He stares at me for a few more moments, then narrows his eyes. "Liar!" He shouts, and lets go of my face and grabs my shoulder tightly.

The cut that was there from the previous night that I self inflicted, burned when he roughly grabbed it.

He leads me down the hallway and pushes me to the steps of the cold, dark basement.

"You can stay down here tonight." Is the last thing he says before pushing me down the stairs, causing me to screech out in pain.

I lay on the cold floor, shaking.