Oh My Virginia

||four||

"Virginia?" My mothers sweet voice echoed through the house, concern lacing the tone of her voice. "Is everything okay, sweetie?"

When I finally got out of my defeated stance, I got up and looked at my mother who was currently standing at the bottom of the stairs, her dark hair framing her sharp features. At the age of thirty-three, my mother looked ultra young, and people usually mistook us for sisters. My mother looked like she was in her mid-twenties, without wrinkles on her smooth, pale skin, nobody would have guessed that she had a seventeen year old daughter.

My mother had me a sixteen, she never said it, but I knew she probably regarded me as some sort of mistake. She dropped out of high-school to take care of me, and she got the only job she could think of that had an at least average pay- a stripper. Over the years, she gained popularity for how young she looked, and even when she grew older, her popularity never died down. She gained a pretty good sum of money by stripping, enough for us to live a decent life.

At first, I was fine with my mothers job, knowing that strippers never took off more clothes than they had to. They are never paid to have sex with someone- they weren't prostitutes. Of course it made me uncomfortable, but my mindset back then believed that my mother did it only so that the both of us could live a pretty decent life with no money problems.

As I got older, my mother told me that my father had left us when I was three years old, my father would have been 24 at that point of time, and he left us without leaving anything behind. My parents met at a club, my dad had no idea that my mother was underage and he had brought her home that night. I used to blame my dad for leaving us, but I soon realized that what my middle school friends said could be the truth- that he probably left because he was disgusted with my mothers job. If my mother hadn't had such a degrading job, my father would have never left us. It was all my mothers fault.

Of course I never said any of this out loud, I was just convinced of it by the time I was in freshman year in high school. Slowly, I started blaming everything on my mother, that it was because of her that I was fatherless.

"Virginia, I need to talk to you about something, leave the mess, I'll clean it up later. Come here," Mom said, grabbing a broom to sweep off the broken vase.

I hesitantly went down the stairs, avoiding the broken pieces of porcelain laying across the floor.

When we were seated, I gave my mom a questioning look, prompting her to go on about what she wanted to talk about.

"You know last Friday night, a boy brought you home drunk.. right?" My mom started off awkwardly, raising her brow at me. I nodded at her, wanting her to continue. "Well, I just want you to know that you should be concentrating in school, not going out to parties and coming home drunk, Virginia. I know-"

"Excuse me? Who exactly are you to tell me about doing well in school, when you dropped out of school at sixteen?" I blurted out, not able to sit back and keep my mouth shut anymore at my mother's preposterous words. I was beyond angry at my mom, how could she tell me how to live my life when she can barely handle her own?

"Honey, that's exactly why I'm telling you this! I don't want you to neglect your studies and end up becoming like me!" My mother raised her voice, matching my tone of voice, standing up to match my height. I didn't even realize that I had stood up in my rage.

I can't fucking believe what I'm hearing. Does she think that I would actually end up like her?

"I might screw up sometimes mom, but I will never end up like you." I said lowly, thinking of all the things in life that she had taken away from me, the fiery rage in my chest spreading when I thought of all the things that I could have if it wasn't for my mother.

My middle-school friends, my self-respect and my father.

I saw a flash of shock- I could understand where that came from, I never showed any resentment to her about her job- followed by immense hurt pass through her beautiful green eyes. She started tearing up, her face morphed into shock and hurt.

Unable to take the overwhelming emotions swirling in my chest anymore, I went up the stairs and to my room, my heart pounding against my rib cage frantically, almost not believing what my mother has said to me.

I sunk deep into the familiar bed sheets, thinking about everything that just took place downstairs.

I kept repeating the same phrase in my head like a chant or a prayer: I will never end up like my mother.

But why is it that even if I said it a million times, it felt like a lie?

• • •

That night, I got my period. And let me just say, it hurts like a fucking bitch.

I can barely get off my bed to brush my teeth, let alone get out of bed and go through the torturous hell also known as high school.

I decided to give this day a miss.

I covered my entire body with my soft white blanket, not wanting the sunlight to enter my eyes. I let out a sigh of relief as I heard the front door close, indicating that my mom was going out to meet her friends.

• • •

I groaned obnoxiously when I heard someone rapping the door repeatedly and ridiculously loudly. Please stop.

Almost as if the person heard my prayer, the knocking stopped.

For about five seconds, before the said person was full on pounding my door now.

"OH MY GOD LET ME BE IN PEACE ALREADY!" I yelled, my voice muffled by my pillows, hoping that whoever that person behind that door heard me, and would leave a moody Virginia on her period alone.

Seriously, I had the worst periods ever. It always hurt, and I was constantly pms-ing, explaining my burst of anger at my mother yesterday.

A part of me felt super guilty because that was totally uncalled for, but another part of me was so damn glad that I finally let out some of that steam.

I rolled off the bed- literally, and crawled down the stairs, trying to get my bloody cramps to hurt less.

I mentally applauded myself for thinking of that pun, before an incessant pounding on my door interrupted my moment of joy.

I cursed loudly, holding on to the doorknob, not bothering to get rid of the irritated look off my face.

My hair was everywhere, I could literally feel it in the sticking up in the air, uncombed and wild, probably looking like a beard of a homeless man. My eyebags were dark and puffy, just like any other girl who had periods as crappy as mine. I was pretty sure I had drool on the side of my mouth, and that I looked like one of those people who lived off tissue paper and ramen noodles.

I consciously wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt, before swinging the door open with much more force than needed. I looked at Troye, who currently had his fist in the air, as if he was ready to knock again, and a thin pile of worksheets held in his other hand.

"May I come in?" Troye suddenly said, looking at me from top to bottom, an unreadable expression fitted across his features.

Oh dear god help me, I couldn't possibly seduce a guy who has seen me in this horrific zombie-like state. Not that I could seduce him today, or anytime this week due to the fact that I was bleeding through my vagina. I just had to keep him around long enough to lure him in, and I sure as hell will not be able to do that looking like I just came out of a terrible horror movie.

With that thought, I slammed the door in his face.

• • •

a/n: hey guys! thanks for reading this chapter! please dont hate virginia too much for what she said to her mom:o also, alot of unanswered questions will soon be answered in the chapters to come

please vote and comment if you enjoyed the chapter! thanks all!