Chapter Seven.

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Chapter Seven.
Madeline's Point of View.

I took my time walking home after I left the school grounds. My messenger bag bumped uncomfortably against my bony hip as I took each step. I ran my tongue over my lips, moistening them slightly as my thoughts began to stray. That final English lesson had been...Weird, to say the least. My plan to ignore Kyle had gone downhill pretty quickly. I hated how I had caved in so easily. To be fair though, he was really annoying me with all of that poking.

Talking to him hadn't been that bad though. I was curious as to why Kyle had held my hand in his own. I didn't peg him for a sentimental kind of person. Of course, I knew that it didn't mean anything- after all, he was with that Jenny person. I had to admit that I became slightly confused as Kyle's words flitted through my mind- 'Take no notice of Jenny. She's a bitch anyway.'

If Kyle thought that Jenny was a bitch then why was he with her? A frown pulled at my lips, tugging them down at the corners. I brushed my hair from my face after a gust of wind blew, and wet my lips with my tongue once more. Perhaps...Perhaps he had only said it to make me feel better? Yes, that must have been it. I mean, there were so many nice girls out there and Kyle could have had any one of them. But he had chosen Jenny. He didn't have to go out with her if he didn't want to, and seeing as he was with her, then he obviously wanted to be. Him calling her a bitch had been low, though. I couldn't decide whether or not he had meant it and the thought was driving me insane.

I sighed in exasperation as I mentally scolded myself for being stupid. Why was I think about this anyway? I had more important things to think about, like if mum had gone shopping for food or not. And if she hadn't, how could I get money to go myself? I was sorely tempted to get myself a job but that would mean William would either be at home alone with my mother more, or he would be spending more time at Mrs Norris' house. He was my responsibility which meant that I wouldn't have any time to work. I could always go through mum's purse and see what she had in there. I doubted that she would notice anyway. The only thing she would ever notice was if any of her alcohol went missing.

I hated how mum squandered all of our money on alcohol. Sometimes, she used the money to buy drugs too. That was the worst. When she was high as well as drunk. That was when the beatings would get ten times worse. Drugs and alcohol was a double whammy. They seemed to go hand in hand.

My main priority was always to protect my brother. He was too young to have to go through what mum put me through. Of course, he wasn't completely immune. Although I never let mum hit William, she still neglected him. I was the one who fed him, bathed him, played with him, comforted him. Although I loved William more than anything, I felt resentful toward my mother for not being the one to take care of him properly. I was only sixteen and yet I had big responsibilities. I wished that I was able to have friends and hang out with them. I wished that I could study for my exams without worrying whether or not my brother and I were going to have food the following day. More than anything, I wished that our mum loved us.

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I lifted my hand and rapped on the door of Mrs Norris' house, which was next door to ours. I wondered if she heard the shouts. If she heard the sharp crack of calloused hands against soft, young skin. Did she have any suspicions about what was going on next door? About why the teenage daughter of a middle aged woman had to look after her little brother? About why the same middle aged woman came home in the middle of the night, stumbling and swearing as she struggled to get her key into the lock?

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