REM

Chapter 18: Domestic Hostility

Amaya woke, her lungs reaching, desperately grasping for the sake needed to sustain her small body. Sweat beaded the entirety of the girl's body, it made her feel sticky, grimy, even. A bag of frozen, yet thawed at the moment, succotash that she knew was only ever in the freezer to serve as an ice pack. No one in their right mind actually ate the stuff as par of their meal. It just wasn't morally right. Like taking a blanket away from a chilly baby, it was unspoken, just something you didn't do.

She flailed the lower half of her body around, kicking off the damp sheet, now noticing that her pajamas were almost soaked through. Having taken her phone back from her mother's room when she was out doing who knows what, it was now sitting at its rightful place on her nightstand. It wasn't like her mother would notice, giving the state she had been in recently. It was almost comatose, like everything happened slower for her. But who could blame her? She knew her mother had always let things get to her, she let people in close enough that it would hurt when they left, if they decided to do so.

Amaya on the other hand held belief that no ties meant no torment. If she stayed borderline with everyone, she felt that she couldn't be hurt if they ever left. At least that's what she convinced herself was the truth. It didn't help that she could hold a grudge for amounts of time previously unknown to man.

She turned over on one side, reaching out to grab her phone. "Ew, I need a shower. I'm gross." Her phone now tightly held in her hand, as all people tended to guard those devices with their lives, she turned it on. Apparently her alarm had failed to wake her when it was supposed to. Twelve hours ago.

"What?!" She questioned what was happening, though didn't quite know why. She knew exactly what had occurred, or at least she thought she knew. Of course, she couldn't be sure of the technical aspects of it all, but she knew whatever it was, it was centered around that woman.

Opaque.

The very woman who had not only invaded her precious dreams, the only place where she could control what happened and when, or at least she thought she could. She was also making the decision of when she slept for her. "Ugh," the groan of distaste was loud, and followed by a harsh roll of her eyes. "This isn't fair," she sighed, wiping her forehead, her fingertips dripping with the perspiration afterwards.

Having heard the noise that's had slipped through the crack of Amaya's door, Mrs. Grant made her way briskly to the girls room, pushing the door slowly open, not wanting to startle or annoy her. "Honey! You're finally awake, thank goodness!" She called over briskly, taking Amaya's head into her arm, kissing the top of her head. "Are you okay? Have you been feeling alright? Sparrow and Robin called, uh... Mrs. Nest sent you a basket of muffins," she laughed, a bit nervously. "I ate one, but the rest are still there. Everyone is wo- I'm worried sick. You can talk to me, I'm always- I'm always here. Okay?"

The woman kept shifting her weight, she sat down, never letting go of the girl's frail frame. "Um, mom. I can't breathe," she used what little strength to separate get mother from her, scooting a few inches away. "I'm fine. I'm hot." She was not fine. But she was hot, and not just because she was rocking her pajamas.

"Well, honey," her teeth audibly grated, not because she was mad, though, it was just a bad habit she had, especially when she was stressed. "You have been asleep for twenty three hours. I didn't want to wake you, but... That's not healthy. And, well, you haven't done much besides sleep a-"

"I said I'm fine mom! Just please, get out and let me clean up." Amaya spoke bitterly, her octave rising just a small bit, putting a commanding tone to her voice even though she had little to no authority.

"Fine, if that's what you want." Mrs. Grant smoothed out her dress before standing. She knew she hadn't been doing well lately, but she was starting to get better, she thought. Jeromy had paid her a visit the previous day, but she hadn't opened the bottle. She was actually trying to get better for herself, for Amaya. With a sigh, she walked out of the room, sticking her head in to speak once more. "Honey, I scheduled you a doctors appointment, your sleeping schedule isn't healthy. I care about you."

"I guess there really is a first time for everything."

"Yeah, and maybe one of those firsts could be you learning a little respect for the people who rear you. You have it better than a lot of kids you know. You have a roof, food, y-"

"You're the reason he's gone, you know." Amaya spat, not looking into her mother's eyes, she seemed more interested in a mustard stain on her floor.

"What did you just say to me?" Mrs. Grant frowned, her hands traveled to her hips, her whole demeanor changing. She just knew she didn't hear what she thought she did. There was no way.

"I said you're the reason he's gone. Not me. He probably couldn't stand all of your whining, I sure know I can't. Don't you have a bottle of pills to go swallow?"

Mrs. Grant inhaled sharply before biting her tongue. She wasn't even as mad as she was hurt at the whole situation, almost immediately she felt tears pricking at the bottom oh her eyes. "W-" She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice cracked, and she simply walked away with her head held low. The sad part was, be daughter had told her the truth, or at least the two had similar views on what the truth was. At least she was trying to clean up her act, though. That was at least worth something.

Amaya hadn't meant the words to come out as malicious as they did, but she did mean the words. Her father leaving was her mother's fault. She just wished everything was back to old times. Her mom wouldn't be a junkie, her dreams would be in her control, her dad would be at home. But old times were long gone.

Take a shot every time Amaya is a prick.

What do you guys think of this so far? We're over 19,000 words, yay!