Drunken Mistake

Chapter 2: Raising Anna

************Karren's POV***********

The reminder of my drunken mistake was crying. As she lay there helpless, I just stare at her showing only anger. The little bitch wouldn't shut up. I had not shown her any love since she was born. The only hint of "love" she had was her name. I had bothered to name her Anna despite the hatred I felt for her.

Anna was now 9 months old and was starting to walk. I kept her in an enclosure lined by barbed wire fence. It was circular with a diameter no larger than 6 feet. By now, she knew not to touch it. She had many scrapes and wounds from her previous attempts to hold onto it for support. I didn't really care much for her cries of pain. Every wound was progress for a life lesson.

Anna learned through experience. She knew a lot for her age. She knew what not to touch and all the things she shouldn't do so that I wouldn't get mad. I have to admit, I was proud of my independent child. Her intelligence almost made me forget why I hated her. ALMOST. I still felt the undying hatred in boiling and growing in my gut. I showed no pride to her. I kept it hidden. My face was stern at all times to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea. The idea that I loved her. How could I love a reminder of such a bad part of my past. That memory was only ruined because she was born. I hated the little bastard!

*******Anna's POV years later*******

I was 7 years old now and in first grade. I sat at the end of a lonely lunch table. I had no friends because I was considered a "troubled kid". I was beaten both at home and at school. My mom would beat me until I felt both numb and raw. When I came to school the next day, kids would laugh and pick on me then they would eventually give me a good beating. I was accustomed to cuts and bruises. I got new ones every day thanks to the crappy life I was living.

******Years later Anna's POV********

11. I was 11 now and in 5th grade. I had cuts scattered all on my wrists and thighs. The cuts were no longer strictly from beatings. I was still teased at school and beaten at home. I couldn't handle the pain so I did the only thing that relieved me. I cut. I cut until I felt like passing out due to excessive blood loss. The pain seemed to seep out of my body in a red liquid form. And once I was satisfied and felt like I was done cutting, I would rinse off and hide away in my room. I only laid in a fetal position crying and thinking hard about my life.I wondered why I deserved this life. Why I was put through this pain...

My thoughts were interrupted by my mom's yelling,"Anna! Get your ass over here!"

I panicked and ran towards my mom to not anger her more. I knew through experience that if I kept her waiting long, I'd be receiving a good beating once I got there. I kept my head bowed and waited for her instructions. I must've ran too slow because she looked furious when I got there.

"What the fuck took you so long?! Eh?! You asking for trouble?! I had to call you three times you dumb ass! Next time I call you, you better get here the first call!",she snapped.

"I'm sorry. I'll get here faster next time.",I responded still staring at the ground.

"Next time?! NEXT TIME?! There isn't gonna be a 'next time' if you keep up how you are! And look me in the eyes when you speak to me, stupid ass! Show some respect.", and with that I received a blow from her fist on my ribs that sent me flying back and onto the floor. How could I respect such a monster I thought as I laid there crying.

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder to be a better daughter. But, please don't hurt me. She laughed humorlessly.

"Awe. How cute. You think I'm done.", she spoke in a faked sweet voice. I then received another blow to my ribcage, but from her foot this time. She simultaneously started kicking me left and right. I was powerless against her. I let my tears stream freely down my cheeks as the blows became harder, a couple hitting my face. I bled and she stared down at me in disgust.

"Get up! And clean up your mess! Fucking little bitch! I hope you know better then to disobey me!",she yelled. I had no idea as to how I had disobeyed her, but I wasn't the one to argue. Nor was I in the condition to. I carefully got to my feet and went off to search for a mop or something to clean up my blood. I was pathetic.

*****The Next Year Anna's POV******

Now I was 12 and had picked up a few tricks. I had learned how to play mother's 'games'. I could now slither my way out of a beating most of the time and eat at least once a day.

Today I had dragged on longer than usual. I thought I had sat alone at the bench for what seemed like hours. School was getting better. I was still teased but I was no longer beaten. I avoided contact with other students as much as humanly possible. I figured if I stayed away from them, they wouldn't have a reason to hit me. And my plan seemed to work. I stayed away from them and they stayed away from me.

Finally I could leave school. I started my journey home slowly. I never wanted to go home. I just wanted to disappear from the face of earth.

I stopped by a gas station to get a quick snack using the money I had stollen from my mom. She hasn't noticed and I hoped she never would, because if she did I knew she'd just about kill me for being a 'thieving little bitch'. She didn't know it, but I always took stuff from her purse and she hasn't yet caught on.

I took money,cigarettes, and matches from her purse. I used the money for food, the cigarettes for burning my pain away and the matches to light the cigarettes.

I've tried to stop the self-harm, but never could. Each beating made me keep doing it.

I didn't know why my mom hated me so much. I knew that she had gotten pregnant whilst being drunk, (which was no surprise since she was always either drunk or high) but it didn't mean it was my fault. I had been contemplating this question for a long time, but never really found an answer.

I sat in the gas station restroom with a burning cigarette pressed firmly on my thigh. It stung, but I deserved every bit of pain I was feeling. I was worthless and pathetic. I should have never been born.

I looked up to the sky and asked,"Why, God. Why did you make me? So you could watch me suffer? For your own enjoyment? What kind of sick game is this?"

I cried as the last of the cigarette was used up and smothered it. I got up, washed my face, and walked out of the restroom. I continued my journey to hell, better known as home.

As I approached my house a clump formed in my throat. I suddenly couldn't swallow. I felt my throat dry as I thought of what my mom would do when she realized how late I had gotten home.

I walked over to the door despite my worries. I reached for my key in my pocket and pulled it out. My hand shook as I stuck the key in the keyhole to unlock the door. I turned it cautiously as I heard a click signaling that the door had been unlocked. I pulled the key out and placed it safely back in my pocket. Now full of worry, I reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it....

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A/N CLIFF HANGER! What do you think she'll find when she enters? Bwahaha! You'll have to wait and find out. Btw sorry for the long wait. School is catching up with me and I haven't had time to update. Don't forget to comment and vote and I'll be updating ASAP! I love you all!❤ Bye!