She's Hurting

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She’s Hurting

I glance out the window and waiting for my mom to came home, but all I see is Thomas’ house, next door. My lips curl up into a smile of jealousy. That’s when I hear my mom’s car turning into our driveway. I cringe as her car squeals to a hault. My heart starts pounding faster and faster. A lump builds in my throat as I think about what she might do to me tonight. I cringe again at the thought of what she did last night.

I crawl into my bed and pull the covers up to my chin. Then I pull my phone out of my back pocket and pull up Thomas’ number.

‘Hey’ I text him, trying to keep my mind off of my mother. My ears perk up, like a dog when I hear the front door creak open. I take in a hazy breath and pray that Thomas will text me back soon. Thank the lord my phone buzzes, telling me Thomas texted back.

‘Hey! What’s up?’ I read on my phone screen.

‘Umm… Nothing really…’ I reply back, sort of lying.

‘Oh, well do you want to come over?’ Thomas texts back. A smile spreads across my face.

‘Yeah, I’d love to!’ I text back. I take in a ragged breath before pulling the covers off my body. Instantly my body is hit with a cold breeze. Then I quickly slip my phone in my back pocket before opening my door ajar, so I could see where my mom was. My eyes landed on her, collapsed on the couch. I felt sick to my stomach just seeing her.

I know I have to sneak past her. That’s the only way I can get to Thomas’ house. Then I could stay at his house tonight. I slowly push the door further. It’s about half way open when hit make a loud squeak. I cringe at the sound. My head instantly whips around towards my mother, who still lay on the couch. She looks asleep, but she’s probably just really drunk.

I let out a sigh of relief when I realize she must not have heard the sound from the door. That’s when I feel my feet start to walk forward. Each step I take is another closer to my pain. I lift each foot carefully then place it softly on the hardwood floor. Some of the floorboards creak, but I try to shift my weight when I hear it start to make a noise. Finally I make it across the house and past my mom without her waking up. I slowly place my hand on the door knob to my front door. Then I start to turn the cool knob.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” I hear a voice say. A familiar voice. One I have come to despise and fear. Because now she isn’t my mother, she’s the woman who comes home drunk every day then hits me for pleasure.

My head instantly turns her way and I feel my hands begin to shake as she rises from the couch. She almost loses her balance, but catches herself.

“I w-was g-gonna go over to Tom’s house. He asked if I c-could c-come over and I s-said y-yes,” I tell my mother, stuttering quite a bit. She looks at me with hatred. Like her glare could shoot me and kill me. Then she stumble over to me. I back away from the door and start to fall into the small cubby I keep my shoes in. trip over ti and land on my backside. My head clunks on the floor and I feel an instant surge of pain rush through my head. That’s when my mother stands over me and starts cackling at my clumsiness.

“You’re so pathetic! You’re just a waste of space! A waste of my money and my time!” Mom yells into my face. Spit bouncing off her lip and landing on my face, but I’m afraid to move, so it just sits there.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” I stutter again. Then I feel a hand hit my across the face and I instinctively place my hand on my cheek. I whimper a bit as the pain increases.

“It’s too late for sorry!” she yells, lifting her hand again to strike. That’s when I close my eyes, but nothing comes. I don’t feel anymore pain. Her hand doesn’t connect with my face again. I just sit there, squeezing my eyes shut. I hear my mom yell a couple times, but I can’t make out her words.

What happened? I ask my self.

I open my eyes and see Thomas holding my mom back. He’s holding her arms back from hitting me. I’m shocked at first, but then I realize that I need to get out of here. I can’t leave Thomas though.

I leap to my feet then motion for Thomas to follow me. He shakes his head.

“Go to my house. I can handle this,” he mouths. I nod, unsurely. I stumble out the door and start to run to Thomas’ house.


(A/N): Part 2 coming soon!

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