You Won't Feel A Thing

•Chapter 2•

Quinn

The sounds of my parents arguing was loud and thunderous. I glanced at the alarm clock that sat on my nightstand beside a framed photo of my brother and I as kids. It was 5 a.m., and their loud voices were booming through the house all the way from the kitchen. Even smothering myself with the pillows didn't' help. Can't they just be silent for a couple more hours? I'm exhausted. I screamed into the pillow, tossing it against the wall on the other side of the room. It's too early for this crap. Rolling from side to side, trying my best to fall back to sleep. My father's steel-toe boots boomed from down the hall as he stomped his way to their room. The knob clicked as he entered, slamming it shut behind him with such force causing my walls to vibrate. Why does Mother always have to fight with him every morning? There was no use in trying to sleep, not when my parents made it their daily mission to make as much noise as possible each morning.

Yanking the rose-colored sheets over my head, I waited to see if my mother would be making her joyous way to their room, but never heard any footsteps. She really needs to stop aggravating him so much. My body sluggishly rolled out of the warm comfortable bed. I glanced up at my reflection in the mirror hanging up on the closet door. I looked like crap. No, scratch that. Even crap looks better than me. It looked as if a flock of birds had flown through my window in the middle of the night and nested in my hair. Dark saggy bags were visible underneath my tiered eyes. My back and arms popped and cracked as I stretched them out. "Where the hell have you been," My mother's scratchy harsh toned voice made me jump in surprise. I wasn't expecting her to come into the room. My head turned just as she was bout to walk through the doorway with her arms crossed.

"I was at a friend's," I mumbled. Why does it matter to you? She smirked. Her old worn-out cherry red stilettos click-clacked against the floor as she sauntered towards me. "Friend? You don't have any friends." Not today. I don't want to argue. " Just for one day, just one misally day, I wished she would just leave me alone. "Out getting laid I bet," she sneered. She leaned her face closer to mine and the smell of tequila made me want to vomit. The smell was overwhelming. "Did he at least pay you? "She asked. I closed my eyes, counting backwards from twenty in my head. Must she find ways to anger me every single day? "No mother," I said through tightly gritted teeth. She looked me up and down in disgust, "Must not have been good enough in bed then, such a shame." Are you kidding me? Sometimes it felt like she spoke nonsense for the hell of it. "I didn't get laid nor did anyone pay me. I'm not a hooker, you know? I was just at a friend's house watching a movie," I responded.

"And what's this friend's name?" she crudely asked. "Marcellus. He lives across the road," I grunted irritably. Stepping back, she turned on her heels and paced within the room. "You were out all night with a man, and didn't get laid? How pitiful," she ridiculed. I sighed, looking back at my reflection. Why do I even bother talking to her. "Why was father upset this morning?" I asked her. Could he have been angry that I didn't come home last night? She ignored me. Her eyes were blood-shot and her hair a wild mess. "Was it because of me," I whispered. A snicker left her lips as she turned towards the door. "The world doesn't revolve around you, stupid girl. Get dressed and make breakfast. I'm starving." I dug into my pants that laid in a hemp on the floor and pulled my phone and earbuds out, placing them on top of the slightly damaged chestnut dresser. I connected the Bluetooth on my phone to the 25inch widescreen television. There were so many songs within my playlist it was hard to choose which one to listen too. The song Kill the Light by Lacuna Coil began playing, my head bounced to the music.

The drawer slid open with ease, there was no need to yank the handle. My body swayed along with the rhythmic beat. I slipped out of my pajamas then pulled a red shirt over my head and shimmied into a pair of black shorts. I slipped the hair tie out and worked my fingers through each knotted strand. Love Me Till It Hurts by Papa Roach started playing. I started to sing aloud to it, "Will you love me till it hurts? Never leave me at my worst". I fixed my long hair into a half up do, making sure the hair tie was snug and tight. Shatter Me by Lindsey Sterling was next in the list of songs to play. My eyes flickered to the mirror. The dark circles were pretty bad. I'll just see if a family of raccoons will take me in.