5 ♡ Mother of Mine

I hear the bell ring, and rush out as fast as I can. I stopped by my locker to pick up my book, and pushed open the metal doors leading outside. Sure, do I feel a little rude for not joining Carrie? Yes. Do I feel bad for not getting my ass beat? No. The funny thing is that I would've gone, but I have to get "home." Plus, I think she's sick. Cus' she's always red and quiet like she has a sore throat. So I'm a little concerned. I mean, I have only seen her for around a day. So for all I know she's fighten' off some germs.

I don't mind it though.

It's kinda cute.

Speedwalking down the sidewalk I think about the quickest route back to my place.

"Can't be late."

A couple jocks winked at me on my way out, prompting an eye roll from me. They started to call out to me, encouraging one another to get in the way of my travel. One tried to, but as I zoomed by I decided to swip his waiting foot. This caused him to fall backward, and his idiotic buds only laughed. Ignoring them is beginning to prove to be difficult. Wouldn't mind sockin' one of em' in the nose.

"What a bunch of brainless, revulting, good for noth-"

Some asshole honked at me from their car, and I returned the favor by flipping them off. They had a shocked expression before narrowing their eyes and opening the window.

"Watch where you're going bitch!" He screetched as I smiled and slowly skated infront of him. I continued to smirk as I picked up my board and walked the rest of the way. I ended by getting back on the board before picking up the pace once more. That was fun.

"God I hate teenagers."

I frowned, remembering that I myself am in fact a teenager.

I made my way past stop lights and took moments to enjoy it. The wind whipped my hair out of my face, cooling me off from stress of the day. I watched as the things around me blurred, no longer in focus. I smiled at all the wonderful scents of the outdoors; trees, leaves, grass, water.

"This is worth suffering through that hell hole people call school."

When I reached the apartment complex I sighed before carrying my board in. Just a little dissapointed that I couldn't ride some more. I walked up the creaky stairs leading to my home, and unlocked the door. "Honestly, this wouldn't stop anyone from breaking in. If someone was really motivated, they could bust in no problemo."

I stepped inside, bitter thoughts running through my head as I went to the solitude that is my own room. Band and movie posters alike greeted me as I entered the cramped space. But it didn't matter that it's small, this is all mine. I plopped down on the twin bed, crossed my legs and picked up my book where I left off.

I encased myself in the story, letting the words form scenes as I drank my CocaCola. I don't know how it happened (besides the fact that this read is amazing), but I completely lost track of time. Cus' when I glanced at the clock, it told me it was already 3:52.

She should've been home already. I smiled, cus' this means she might not be back for quite a while. As if on cue, the door opened and closed, making a loud noise. I groaned and slammed my book shut.

She's home.

Yay me...

"Emma, are you here yet?" She yelled, footsteps increasing volume until she was standing in my doorway. "Oh, there you are. I brought cookies, do you want some?" She's still dressed in her "uniform," as she likes to call it. Stupid woman can never keep a job for too long before finding a problem with it. Two months ago she worked at the pet adoption center, and would always talk about how much she loved it. Then after a couple weeks she quit due to the "demonic cats."

You know, if she actually kept one of her jobs, we might live somewhere better. For crying out loud we literally live in one of the cheapest apartments in town.

"Isn't the food for you know, the homeless,"  I prodded, expecting an explanation of the sudden baked goods. "That's why you got the job Ma. If we're running low on food I can go out and get some, you can't just take stuff."

She only grimaced, and it hits me that I probably won't like the answer.

"Emma, your father loaned some money to us a little bit ago. I bought the cookies- and other food- by choice," she whispered, leaving the doorway. My eyes widened hearing the title father, and I lept off my bed into the shitty area we call a living room.

"First of all, that peice of shit isn't my pops. And second, are you fucking kidding me?!" I seathed, clenching my fists on the edge of our worn sofa. "You're telling me that he just sent some moola over, no catch, no nothin' on his own accord? Ma, how stupid can you be? Let me guess, he 'quit smoking and drinken,' he's a 'changed man?' Ma, how many times does he have to hurt us before you realize he's a fucking wreck?!"

She flinched at my words, nose flaring. I looked at the cracking walls in order to avoid her stare. After a few moments I gave up and glared back, mentally burning a hole through her head into the door behimd her.

"Emmalise Maria Peterson, he is trying very, very, hard to quit. He's on meds, and in a group to help him towards a better life. He actually sent the money as an apology for all that he's done to us, he's sorry," she spat at me, throwing the bag of cookies on the kitchen counter, glaring at me as if my exclaimation was outragous.

"Ma, if he's trying so hard, like all the times before, how come we have no proof? Let me guess, you believe him? He was literally a fucking actor for christ sake before he became a drunk 24/7! And if he's so sorry, why did he leave us, WHEN I WAS SIX YEARS OLD?!"

I chuckled, and I feel like I belong in an asylum. Just for a few moments, finding this situation amusing.

"You want to know something, just, hilarious, o' mother of mine? I had to become responsible, and take care of my own mother- instead of the other way around- WHEN I WAS SIX FUCKING YEARS OLD!! "

"I just can't with this woman."

She fell back into the recliner, head in hands and started to shake. Of course, now she's gonna act like some victim. "Where do you think I got the money for you to go to school," she whispered in a shaky voice. "A real school. Not that run down place that made you like... like this," she rambled, gestering towards my clothes. "I don't even know you anymore! You curse and your speech patterns are so off and you try to act so cool and go by... Emma now! What am I supposed to do?!" Her nails dug into her skull as she screamed at me, loosing it.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I BREAK SOMETHING OVER YOUR UNGRATEFUL HEAD!! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU UNTIL MORNING YOU HEAR ME!!"

Huffing, I stormed into my room and packed my bag. I shoved in my book, and some clothes for the night. I snatched up some cans, and threw in an extra sweater. This was definately going to be a shitty night. I checked the clock one last time as I threw in my phone, still hooked up to the charger.

3:55

Stomping back towards the door, I whipped around and faced her. "I'm going to a friend's. That friend of mine, is from my old school for all you care, and he's not that bad, And oh, by the way, this isn't a god damn house," I spat acidly. "ITS A FUCKING PRISON!!" I screamed before slamming the door.

Damn that felt good.

"STOP SWEARING AND JUST GO!!"

There was the sound of something breaking, and I grimaced at the awful noise. If I can remember correctly, the closest thing to her was a vase I made when I was eleven. Worked pretty hard on the stupid little thing, and it was a gift for her too.

"Whelp, guess that's another memory gone."

I'd only been home for half an hour, and now I'm walking right back out. I sighed, and looked back up at the window to our apartment. She stood at the window, arms crossed as if I were some misbehaving toddler. Sometimes it baffles me just how broken she is. Frowning, I turned and walked away with my board under one arm, not in the mood to enjoy a ride. I chuckled darkly to myself, wishing for things a normal teenager shouldn't have to.

"See ya' later Ma."

♡♡♡

I pressed the doorbell again, waiting for what felt like forever.

Finally, it opened and I smiled.

"Sup Scotty, can we hang out?" I asked the boy. He smirked and grabbed an already stuffed bag from the floor. This is routine for us nowadays. I look him up and down, smirking at the baggy pants and pajama shirt. He has an acceptional bed head, and I can't be happier to see the guy.

"Yea, just give me a sec' and I'll grab some food," he said, walking further into the house before hollering back in my direction. "You can come in if ya' want, but I really won't take that long!" I snorted, not wanting to show that his house makes me feel like a rat. Of course by food, he means; marshmallows, chips, and candy.

"Nah I'm good Scotty, I'll just wait here while ya' take forever!" I heard him scoff, before waltzing back to the door with a cooler.

"Sha'll we part with my living courters madame? Where is it you sha'll like to travel upon on this fine evening your ladyship?" He questioned, standing straight and acting as if he were twirling a moustache. I could tell that he's doing his very best to appear as a buttler. I couldn't help but stiffle a laugh, and courtsy in return, playing along.

"Oh you know, the usual my good fellow. I've had quite the particularly bothersome afternoon, and wish to partake in some artistic activities," I replied, walking towards his car while pretending I was a queen. He sprinted to the passenger side, and opened the door for me.

"My lady," he said as I climbed in.

"Thank you good sir, do move in good haste."

He closed the door before slidding over the hood and hopping into the driver seat, laughing. "Was that good haste enough for you my ladyship?"

"This is why you're my best friend," I snorted as he turned, hitting my arm.

"This is why I'm your only friend," he said with a chuckle. I know it's a joke, but it makes me feel funny and I point towards the gas pedal.

He started it up and cranked the music, speeding out of the neighborhood and dangerous speeds. I rolled down my window and stuck my hand out, feeling the breeze pull on my fingertips. When we reached the highway he cut off onto a dirt path leading up to an old subway station. "Now this is what I live for."

We rolled into a corner that still had roof intact, and got to unpacking. Scott set up the tent, while I unloaded all of our stuff and blew up the air mattresses. He kept glancing towards me, eyes asking what happened this time. But I don't really feel like telling him yet. When everything was in place he got out some wood for a fire, and I held my bag in front of me.

Scott stopped what he was doing, and looked at me quizically. "I thought we were gonna use the paint markers," he said. I smirked, pulling out the cans and he dropped the wood, no longer caring if it was burning now.

"You saved them! This is perfect, that part of the concrete is completely blank too!" He yelled, jumping up and down like some kid. "Dude, show me your latest sketches!"

I rummaged around in my bag before pulling out my sketchbook, and passing it over. He went from page to page, and stopped on one, tapping the paper.

"Yo we gotta throw this one up! It's wicked!" I grabbed my book to see what he was looking at, and shrugged.

"Sure man, I like it. Let's get to work."