Waking up was the hardest part of the day, knowing you have to deal with whatever life decides to throw at you; the good, the bad. I woke up that day, my skin sticky from sweat and my pulse elevated. Great, nightmares. What could be a better start to the day? I tried to recall what i'd dreamed of but unfortunately, didn't have time. I looked at my clock,"shit." I was late for work. I jumped up, got dressed and left for work. I ran the 2 miles to the small restaurant in the middle of town called 'Mitchens'. It was a simple place but it was one of few in such a small town. I never liked living there it was lacking in possibilities and I had never really fit in with the community. It wasn't such a loss in my opinion, i didn't feel like being accepted by these strangers meant anything.
It wasn't my fault the people there never really accepted me. I was from a 'bad' family. My mother had died when i was twelve, four years ago, and had left a sort of...reputation. My mother had drank herself into madness, either that or she always was but suppressed it for a while. She is now best known for being the murderer of Katherine Ray and Martin Terrace. One night she had drank far too much tequila and decided that since i was around, she'd take out some anger by breaking four of my ribs, and giving me a few other bruises. The next day i was so blue i simply couldn't hide it from my teachers. I'd used the excuse of falling down the stairs too many times apparently so after school they came with me to talk to her.
When we got there it was three o'clock; she was already drunk. She sent me too my room with a meaningful glare. I heard them talking downstairs for a while but when the shouting started i came downstairs. There i found my mother standing against a corner with a decanter in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. I couldn't believe my eyes when it happened. In a sloppy motion she plunged with the knife, it went into the left side of Martins stubble covered neck. Immediately i ran over and grabbed a tea towel to try and stop the thick red blood pouring and squirting out of him.
Katherine had been screaming since she grabbed the knife but i didn't even notice, i was too panicked. My mother stumbled around me and the bloody Martin, she got closer to Katherine. As i realised what my mother was about to do i scrambled across the floor towards them. Katherine raised her arms to protect herself, still shrieking. I grabbed my mother and threw her to the floor. In a rage she lashed out with her knife and cut deep into my face. The cut dragged all the way from my cheek down my neck and chest. She got back up and went back to the still screaming Katherine. She stabbed directly into Katherine's temple causing a petrifying, scaring expression cross her face, though it was only for a moment, that image burned in my mind. I pushed my mother from behind, this time the knife was knocked away. I knew i couldn't stun her for long and i couldn't beat her strength, i had no idea what to do.
At that moment the door burst open and a swarm of people came rushing in. The neighbours must have heard the screams and called the police. She stood up and lunged for the nearest person, a small petite woman whom looked to be in her early twenty's. The knife came to her hip and stabbed deep inside. One of the large police then fired two shots, one hit my mother in the stomach and another in the chest. I was frozen still. Just staring. I shook uncontrollably.
That was all i remember from that day. The police woman, Joan, survived with no organ damage just a small scar. I,on the other hand, woke up in hospital with huge bandages all down my torso. The cut had went so deep it had apparently scraped the bones in my rib cage. When i was discharged i was able to see the wound when changing the bandage. I stood in front of the mirror and slowly pealed away the bandages. It looked like my body had slit in two and had mearly been stitched back together in a rush, I had jagged skin all the way down my body, around the cut was blue and green bruising. I began to cry. I wasn't sure what i was crying about really. The ugly scar, the fact that my own mother had gave me it, or that i was now completely alone.
My dad had been nothing but a one night stand and neither me nor my mother had any clue who he was. I knew of no other family members accept a great aunt whom my mother didn't associate. my great aunt was very popular in the town and she knew of my mothers issues and had wanted nothing to do with me or her for it. Now, however, my aunt, if she wanted to uphold a good reputation, would have top welcome her poor little niece with open, caring arms. To which I'm sure neither of us were happy about.
Living with her wasn't so bad' we mainly kept out of each others way, last month when I turned sixteen she got me a job and a crappy flat at the edge of town. I was grateful for it. I like being on my own, independent.
