drunk mom

"and don't you come back either! you useless, worthless piece of junk! leave me just like your drunk, mother f-ing father!" i slammed the door on my mother, tugging a duffel bag of my belongings and my book bag on my back.

it was a Saturday afternoon and mom was drunk. again. she laid there on the couch, zombie-like staring into the emptiness of the telly. the day had just begun for me, as i headed down the hall and into the kitchen. it didn't bother me that she was there, and that she was just there so i didn't have to be in a foster home. it was the one thing she had done right for me. i was reaching into the fridge for anything that was edible, when she came up behind me and swung the bottle at me. the hard, stinging pain that accompanied the hit caused me to fall to the ground. i thought, f-ing b*tch. not now. i don't need this, not now. she came at me again with the bottle and i wrangled it from her. she started throwing insults, and none that i haven't heard before. i tuned her out like always, thanked whatever force that stopped me from doing something that i would have regretted, and threw the bottle across the room.
f*ck. what did i do wrong in my life? i don't deserve this, i thought as i reached for the jar of jam and crossed the so called "kitchen" to grab a spoon in a drawer.

as i twisted open the jar, what happened next, i didn't see coming. mom reached for the bottle without my knowing, and hit me again. next thing i know, I'm on the floor again, with glass littered all around, and blood protruding from my scalp. she was standing across from me, tall and proud; finally satisfied i was hurt. in that moment, i didn't have hate for my father. there was only hate for my mother. i was actually impressed he got away from this physco. i was the unlucky one. the one left here with this crazy.
without any retaliation, i picked my self up, took my jam and spoon and headed to my room. crazies always calmed down after hurting others, and i knew that. after all, i lived with one all my life.

i sat at the foot of the bed located across the room, and adjacent from the dresser. the room was originally mom's, but now her drunk ass could barely bring her to the bathroom. the windows brought in the caressing sunlight, that showered my face with warmth. if i was so doomed, why does God tease me with you, my dear sun?, i philosophized, spooning a heap of jam into my mouth. the happiness that followed was short lived, because at that moment, the door flung open, and standing there was mom.

damn. i guess she didn't have enough fun. i braced myself, ready for the pain, until i saw what she pulled out from behind her. tucked at her side, was the bottle. only this time, it was the remaining piece that made it past the last punch. the top was still in tact, but the bottom was formed in the shape of a crown, that looked as sharp as razors. her eyes flared with fire, ready to kill. the picture hit me then. she was going to do it. she was ready to murder. either that, or she was drunk enough. for once in my life, i felt scared, and my body shook. i wasn't ready to die. i decided there was more to live for then this. in a bolt, i dashed across the room, and fought to close the door.
this b*tch isn't getting in, even if it's gonna cost her her hand. back and forth the door moved, as it creaked from the pressure enveloping it from both sides. it was a difficult task, considering she was an ex-wrestler. the door ceased to a stop as it closed and i turned the knob to lock it. i leaned on the door and slided down to sit. she began to bang on the other side of the door, screaming more insults.
"let me in!" bang, bang.
"I'm your f*king mother!" some more bangs.
"don't you love me, you ignorant hoe?!" bang, bang, kick.
"please! let me in! i just want to talk! won't you even talk?" she pleaded.
"go downstairs and sleep it off. you're drunk mom, we'll talk later. i promise." i managed to say.
"DON'T YOU F*ING TELL ME WHEN I CAN OR CANNOT TALK, YOU STUPID B*TCH!!!!!! OPEN THE F*ING DOOR! NOW!!!!" she screamed and pounded on the door some more.

it was a miracle I've been able to live under her roof for 14 years. it has been like this all my life, and in that instant, i decided I've had enough. scanning the room, i found the unused, yet ragged yellow duffel my mother got from the dumpster, under the bed. i took it out and began to throw in the very few items i did own: a pair of sneakers, flip flops, a button down, 4 t-shirts,6 tanks, 3 under wears, some socks, a skirt, dress, and 3 pairs of jeans. it wasn't much, but it was enough. on the desk, i took a comb, the box my grandma left me before she passed, and the numerous amounts of paper, i tied into 2 manageable and portable stacks. she was still pounding on the door, when i began to empty out my backpack, and only adding the things i needed. i knew the door wasn't going to last, and panicked. i shoved in things i thought i needed, including, my homework, a notebook, gone with the wind, and a midsummer's night dream. i glanced back nervously as i added in other's including my secret stash of "$$ for emergencies", my wallet, cell, ipod from Christmas, and my grandma's engagement ring.

with everything ready, i took the knife i kept for "emergencies," out from under the dresser and readied myself, before unlocking the door. i held the knife up, in a threatening stand, more for my protection, than for the satisfaction of killing her. i followed her eyes as she scanned me and my things.
"and where do you think you're going? huh?" her face was filled with unbelievable laughter, as i passed her and headed to the bathroom.
"you leaving? where to? No one loves you. no, not you. A f*ing b*tch." she announced as she followed me. "you're lucky to have me. in fact, you should be kneeling at my feet now, waiting on my wants, night and day. if it weren't for me, you be on the street now, a prostitute f*ing, just for food. I'm the only person you got now, you're family, you're MOTHER!!!" she emphasized."
"Mother?! you think of your self a mother?! you're a F*ing DRUNK!!!!! the pervert across the street is as much as a mother as you are! at least that dude can feed me! you can't even feed yourself!" i reached for my toothbrush, and toothpaste. in the drawer, i took a few "necessities", and a bottle of advil.
that moment, i blew a fuse and she headed for me. i grabbed the knife that was laying on the sink and held it up to her face. "come any closer, and you won't be anything but dead meat." i threatened.
she chuckled and said, "is this how it's gonna be then? you think I'm going to let you out of my door? out of MY house?! after all that i have given you? i gave you life, b*tch. a place to sleep, to live. you think i needed to do those stuff? I'm your mother, sure, but you owe me. and till you've paid, you're not leaving. i don't think so. your going to wish you were dead, before I'm done with you."
my grip on the knife tightened, and i was ready. ready to defend my life, defend for my freedom. "i owe you nothing, you f*ing drunk. you've done nothing for me, and this house that I live in, is not yours, it was grandma's, which she left for ME and till i turn 18, you're just residing here. the food that you and I eat, is what I PAY for. you're just a chain holding me down, and i would've thrown you out long ago, if it wasn't for pity. so don't act like you support me. you're the reason I'm leaving, the reason i live a shitty life. so I'm taking action. one and for all. I'm LEAVING, and there's nothing you can do about it. because even if i have to kill you, i will to leave. save yourself, be smart, and just move out of the way." i said.

comment for a to be continued =)