The girl quietly closed the door, a tiny tear running down her cheek.
"Yes, go to your room you worthless shit! Like I need you!"
A bottle hit the living room wall, breaking into smithereens.
"Get out of my sight!"
She shouted at her, stench of alcohol coming out of her mouth.
She put down her bag, afraid to make a sound.
"Why am even keeping you in this house, still? You're worthless!"
The woman scoffed, finishing another bottle. She gulped another sip of the diguisting drink.
"Plus, you eat too much, no suprise you're so fat, like a cow."
The woman laughed, almost choking.
She brushed away the tears that were coming too fast. Her mother had changed so much for the past months.
I feel like I don't know her anymore.
Is that really my mum?
I'm so confused.
She sat on the bed, her hands gripping onto the soft sheets, closing her eyes. Her mum wasn't always like this. This must be hard for her too.
I don't know her anymore now.
Since she lost her job, she's been a completely different person. The girl thought her mum knew this wasn't the solution.
It looks like you didn't know her then, and know you do even less.
I wish I could help her.
I really do.
She looked at her phone. Her classmates weren't making it easy for her either. Once again she opened her messages, going through all those messages. First they were making fun of her just in school, now their words are everywhere she goes.
"Could you just kill yourself? It would be really nice, for once you'd do something right." (16:34, Tuesday)
"Don't you realize what an attention whore you are?" (8:30, Wednesday)
"Come with me to lunch? Oh right, i'm scared you're going to eat all of my plate too" (13:15, Wednesday)
She could go on forever, but this was too much. Tears started to flow down her cheeks, unstoppable. She buried her face in the pillow, hoping to somehow escape from all this madness. Sometimes she thinks it's a nice idea, to kill herself. Right now, no one would even notice, talking about caring. It would be a nice change, if everything just stopped. It would just stop. It would be the end, and then she would be happy. Nobody would try to stop her.
She sat up again. God sent me here to do something important, I cannot end my life like this. No, he wouldn't like that. Even if my mum would like that, and she gave birth to me. She looked at her phone. For a second, she had to think.
I cannot end my life like this. Even if that bitch wants that.
She heard the woman drop another bottle on the ground. The girl dialed a phone number, pressing the call button.
Beep. Beep. Bee-
"This is The Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline. Can I help you?" She heard a young woman say.
"Please, help me." She whispered, still a bit afraid to make too much noise.
"Could you please tell-
"I don't want to be here anymore. She's drunk, she's always drunk now. Help me." She said.
"Please, tell me your official address and we will send a man to inspect the house."
Come with me, little girl. We're here to help you, and your mommy too. Trust me.
She heard doors slam. She heard her mother scream, but she herself didn't understood the situation yet. But she trusted the people, she was going to be safe. For once, she's going to be safe.
"Dear, what is your name?"
"Maya. Maya Foster." She whispered, still afraid. What was going to happen to her mom?
"You're going to be safe, we will find you a new place to stay, Maya."
She found herself smiling slightly. None of this would've happened if she would've killed herself. There was still hope.
She believed, there was always hope. The rest became a blur. But that doesn't matter anymore.
© Copyright 2016 Jaliette. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Literary Fiction
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