The Days Of Kelsea's

(24) Kelsea - Friday 1st September, just before 12 midnight, My Room.

Little brat. I know he's my half brother, but that doesn't mean I have to like him.  

Anyway, today I was left alone in the house. I put the dress that I'd borrowed from Lucy in her room, hung neatly in the wardrobe. Mum hadn't missed her shoes. I slid those casually into her drawer in her wardrobe.  

Then, I was bored. So bored. The house was so silent. I read but then I finished it after an hour. I looked across the road to Kale's drive to see that his car was gone. Work, obviously. 

Around five o'clock - after Lucy had returned, mum got back and it was raining and her hair was wet as she stormed inside. Her cheeks were red, her hair was red, her expression was red, her whole aura was red. 

"What are you two sat there staring around for?" She snapped when she walked into the kitchen, her hair stuck to her face.  

"What's the mood for?" I mumbled as Lucy collected her glass and slowly stood up. Her eyes were wild but timid, however I could see that she was pissed that mum had come in here and just ruined a nice day for her. 

Mum hissed at me as Lucy moved into the sitting room. "Shut up, Kelsea. Get out of my way." 

I stared at her in anger, and now it was war. Mother vs daughter, and we are so alike but so different. Disbelief as well as humour suddenly flashed in her eyes, her mouth still a thin, pale line, as I moved in front of her. 

"When are you gonna get a job, mother?" I demanded. I tried not to shout for Lucy's sake. "You're the adult here, yet I'm the one bringing in the money now!"  

"You ungrateful little brat!" She shouted. So much for the trying not to be loud thing. "It's not easy Kelsea! Life isn't easy! When I was your age I had not just a job and I wasn't only studying but I had a baby too! You should try to learn some responsibly." 

I couldn't believe it. "What? You're telling me to go out and start being a total whore like you were-" 

I couldn't finish, because suddenly my cheek had been slapped so hard that I felt as though I had something radiating or oozing out of it. The pain was kind of awful. I didn't expect my mother to be able to do that. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she whispered maliciously, her face up right close to mine. "Just like your stupid father." 

"You were stupid," I hissed, my hand against my cheek now. "Still are." 

I HATE HER 

I KNOW THAT APPARENTLY THAT IS A SIN 

BUT I DO 

UGH 

I ran upstairs, and then looked at the fucking massive huge throbbing red mark that my mother had left on my face in the bathroom mirror. I closed the door, which was a bad decision because a few minutes later I heard feet running hurriedly up the stairs and someone was banging heavily on the door. When I opened it, Lucy rushed past me immediately to throw up right into the toilet. 

The sounds were awful. I used to be terrified of throwing up, and watching other people be sick. But now I guess I'm used to it. Lucy stood there retching for a minute or so, before beginning to silently cry as I smoothed back her hair from behind and rubbed her back slowly. We both sunk down onto the tiled floor together and I held her with her chin over my shoulder, untangling the loose knots in her silky hair and allowing her to begin to sob. 

"I'm so sorry," she cried. "I don't know what's wrong, Kelsea . . . Kelsea, what am I going to do? It's horrible." 

"Don't be sorry." I frowned and stroked her hair. "The only way for you to get better is to go to the doctor's that's what we're gonna do. That's what we are gonna have to do, Luce."