Ready to go?" Michael asks me, picking up my bags and walking towards the car. I wanted to throw myself on to the floor and cry.
No you stupid, does it look like I'm ready to go live with my older brother and his band mates? Does it look like I'm completely happy that my own mother no longer wants me?
I nodded my head and took one last look at my mum, but her eyes didn't even drift from the TV for a second. I bit back tears, turning back to the door and stepping out of my house, fully aware that I was never to walk back in there again.
Michael loaded my things into his car, then slipped into the driver's seat.
"Mum loves you," He told me as he pulled out of the driveway, "She just has problems, you know that. It won't be horrible living with me."
I wanted to lift up my shirt and show Michael my bruises stomach, is that love? I wanted to pull my bangs from my face and show him the unhealed gash across my forehead and ask him if that was love, because it's not to me.
I may love that woman with all my heart, but that only makes it worse.
"Are you going to talk?" He asked after a few minutes.
"This mouth just gets me into trouble, that's why mum hates me, isn't it." I rolled my eyes, looking out the window.
"She doesn't hate you," My brother sighed, putting his hand on my knee. I jumped, pushing myself into the door to get away from him.
He sighed again.