~Insatiable Love~

Chapter 1 : Introduction

Mom. A word I never understood the meaning of. It was like trying to grasp a distant fragrance, forever out of reach. What was it like to have a mom? To have that nourishing love, like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day. To feel the warmth of this relationship, like the gentle rays of the sun kissing your skin. The caring attitude of a woman towards you, that actually wanted to welcome you into this world to be a friend of her. To feel the selflessness of this strong woman, her love flowing like a river, guiding you through life's twists and turns. I longed for that, to have a mom who would hold my hand and walk with me through life's journey.

But no, that wasn't what a mom was in my world. It was a ruthless woman, her heart guarded like a fortress. She didn't care for whatever you could do, her indifference piercing through your soul. A woman who was never proud of you, her words leaving scars that would never fade. A woman who made you feel guilty for even wanting basic needs, as if you were asking for too much. She was never emotionally and physically present, a ghost haunting the halls of our home. A woman, so selfish, who never cared to ever sacrifice anything for you. That was what a mom was by definition to me.

I'm Audrey Hale, the eldest sibling in my family. The weight of responsibility fell upon my young shoulders, as I became more than just a sister to my siblings. I became their protector, their caregiver. I raised my brother Max, who is now 16, and my sister Bella, who is 11. Bella is less of a sister and more of a daughter, as I took on the role of a mother figure from the moment she was born. I changed her nappies, made her bottle every time, and played with her, cherishing the moments of innocence and joy.

The story of my household is a familiar one, echoing the struggles of countless others. Growing up in a house, not a home. But amidst the chaos, there was solace in books. They became my sanctuary, my escape from the harsh realities of life. At the tender age of 5, I delved into the world of fiction, immersing myself in tales of adventure, love, and magic. Those pages became my refuge, transporting me to places far beyond the confines of my own existence.

"Can you please help me with this equation? It's a weekend so I can't text my teacher." Sure, here's a revised version of the chapter with added sensory visuals and vivid descriptions:

"Can you please help me with this equation?" Max entered the room, nervously scratching his head. His footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor as he approached me. I looked up from my book as I placed my reading glasses on top of my head, the cool metal frames resting lightly against my temples.

"Sure. Polynomial or quadratics?" I closed my book, its weight settling in my hands. I motioned for Max to take a seat, the cushioned chair inviting him to relax. The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of pages.

Books were my refuge, my sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. They whispered stories of adventure and love, their pages worn and weathered from countless journeys. As a young child, I discovered solace within their pages, weaving my own tales of wonder and imagination. They became my companions, offering solace when the world seemed cold and unforgiving.

I took Max's workbook, its crisp pages waiting to be filled with knowledge. The pencil in my hand glided effortlessly across the paper as I solved the equation, each stroke of lead leaving a trail of understanding. With a gentle touch, I flipped through the answer key, confirming our success.

"Perfect. So this is how..." I explained each step, my words flowing like a gentle stream, guiding Max along the path of comprehension. The air in the room was filled with anticipation, the scent of possibility lingering in every breath.

Taking his notebook, I wrote down a similar equation, the ink flowing from my pen in graceful arcs. The paper felt smooth beneath my fingertips, its texture a reminder of the countless stories it held. I handed it to Max, a silent encouragement to test his newfound knowledge.

As time passed, the room was filled with the sound of Max's pencil dancing across the page. The minutes slipped away, unnoticed in the realm of learning and growth. Finally, he finished, a sense of accomplishment radiating from his eyes.

"Thank you." Max's voice was filled with gratitude as he pressed a gentle kiss on my cheek. The warmth of his gesture lingered, a fleeting moment of connection.

I let out a deep sigh, the weight of the world momentarily lifted. The book in my hands called to me, its pages filled with the lives of the March sisters.

Little Woman by Louisa May Alcott.

The feeling of dissociation engulfs me and before I am aware of the time, my dad is screaming for me to come and eat something before the kitchen closes for the night.

My dad, my support strength and my supervisor. Not once, have I ever cried to sleep because of him and there hasn't been a moment where if I requested him anything and he didn't buy me that thing instantly. He always made sure I knew that he was proud of me and also that I didn't need to BE something because of someone's opinion. He always ensured I went to bed knowing that I had at least one person I could look up to in times of trouble. I felt free many times.

It was their fights that haunted me and how the taunts and screaming followed me inside into the room and my mother was screaming and yelling things at me and blaming me for existing and causing all this issues.

"you are a bitch!"
"you are the devil!
"you deserve to die!"
"you snake!"
"i will cut off your hands and feet!"
"i will kick you out of the house!"
"you ungrateful rat!"
"you are so selfish, you will never succeed in life."

Then crying alone in the bathroom over the shower, so, that my dad doesn't get worried and they don't fight again. But I accepted these feelings and emotions. I was all what she said. I mean, that's what all adults say right? That a mother can never be wrong. So here, I sit trying to drown my thoughts with ink written on a paper. As if, it could change my life. And it does, even if for a short period of time.

But I will work hard. For my dad and siblings. I will save them from this but foremost, myself. I will take them far away and provide them the life they actually deserve.

"SIS!! WE ARE WAITING!"

"Coming!"

Author's Note:
Hi! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I will try to make quicker updates but no promises. Anyway, if you liked this then please vote and lemme know if you have any suggestions or questions ❤️