Missing Out

chapter 1- the beginning

"FEMI, go to my room and get my laptop off the dresser!" my mother screeches.

Instinctively, my hands cover my ears. Goodness gracious I absolutely hate it when my mother has to scream from downstairs, she sounds like a dying walrus.

Sighing, I roll out of bed leaving my brand new sketch book fluttered open on my patterned sheets and I inch my way towards her bedroom. As I enter her room, the smell of fresh paint hits me square in the face and my nose immediately wrinkles in reaction to it.

Swiftly picking her sleek laptop off the dresser, I make my way down the stairs to hand it to my mother. I find her standing at the foot of the wooden staircase with her arms crossed and her foot impatiently tapping against the floor.

I hand her the laptop and start to head back up the stairs when I hear her clear her throat. Rolling my eyes, I turn to face my mother with a smile. "Yes mother?" I try saying as sweetly as I can manage. I didn't plan on being rude but I really wanted to get back to working on my drawing.

At this she immediately barks out, "Since you have this attitude and are going back upstairs, throw me down some wrapping paper. I need to wrap this stupid gift for the Stewart's birthday bash tonight".

Through a tight smile I reply "Yes" and run up the stairs to avoid her telling me to do something else. I enter her room once again, but this time I see a box peeping out from under the bed. I don't recall seeing it when I first came to get her laptop...that's unusual.

Curiously, I pull the box out from under the bed and examine it. I've never seen this box before, it's sleek and shiny with some type of metallic coating on top. My hands start moving on their own and before I know it, I'm looking down at a ton of newspaper clippings, magazine cutouts, and pictures. I dig around the box more and find a wooden frame settled at the bottom of the box. I take it into my hands and I see that it's a picture of a gorgeous woman with dark brown hair cradling a baby in her arms. I've never seen this woman before, maybe she's a far aunt or cousin I think to myself.

Putting the frame aside I begin to read the clippings. They're of a missing person, I begin skimming words and my eyes land on the name. I look at the picture next to the name and strangely they connect.
Femi.
It's a picture of me, but developed 10 years in the future...

Frantically I start digging through the box and start stuffing clippings into my bra and pants. I need to collect this information without getting caught.

At this point my heart is about to leap out of my chest, I know my mother could walk in at any second. A dozen questions start swarming my mind, "Was my entire life up till now a lie? Is the woman I call mother actually my mother?"

While I try to process these thoughts my so-called mother barges in and at the top of her lungs she shouts "FEMI, WHY ARE YOU TAKING SO LONG?".

Oh crap, the devil is here.

She starts walking towards me very cautiously and narrows her eyes to see what I'm doing crouched up in the corner. My eyes dart to her face and immediately do not like what they are seeing. Mother's face is drawn up into a hideous scowl and as soon as she realizes what I'm doing, she lounges toward me.

I scramble to my feet and sprint towards the door, narrowly missing her grip. At this point I only knew one thing, and that was to get out of here as soon as possible.

Clippings of newspapers and photographs were beginning to spill out of my pockets and bra, I had to clutch my chest and run down the stairs.
Frantically, I begin to turn the doorknob only to see that mother had locked the door.
And these doors could only be unlocked by a key that she kept around her neck at all times. There was no way I could escape.

At this point, my mind is clouded with thoughts and I have to blink a few times to get past my blurry vision.
I just need time to process all of this. Maybe I should just talk to mom? There should be a logical explanation to this, maybe I'm just overreacting. But what if I'm not overreacting and she really is some type of serial killer? Confused with all my thoughts, I plop myself onto the ground to consider my options. I watch as mother's clunky figure makes it down the stairs and I watch her until she's right in front of my face. She can't do anything to me... right?

She takes in the sight of my crumpled figure and analyzes me amusedly. Using her meaty arm, she harshly grabs me by my forearm and drags me into the living room.
We sit on the tiger skin couch and her greasy nails slowly dig their way into my skin. She looks at me in such a way that I feel as if she's peering into my soul. After a moments of uncomfortable staring, mother clears her throat and causally says, "You're a very stupid girl for trying to think you could run away from me".
I blink a few times trying to register what she had just said to me. Was she being for real?

"Right, of course I'm the stupid one. I was stupid enough to think that you were actually my real mom. You never even -"

"Enough, your annoying voice is giving me a headache. Please just shut up", she commands me. The audacity this woman had, two-faced much? Not wanting to make the situation worse, I decide to keep quiet.
"Much better, now tell me how you found that silver box?", she's talking in such a calm tone that it's almost frightening.

"I don't have to answer you", that's all I get to say before I feel a stinging in my ears, so much for trying not to make the situation worse. My hands shoot up to my face and as I run my hand over my cheek, I can feel a bump growing. Her slaps are normal for me, I was used to this constant abuse.

"Give me that attitude one more time and we'll see what happens next", mother scolds.

"Okay, you want to know that badly? Well believe it or not I found it laying on your bed", I sneer out. I'm a little surprised that I actually managed to say that, but I needed to say something. How is it fair on my part that she turns two-faced out of nowhere? Abuse was normal in this household, but mother had never been harsh with words. I was seeing a completely different side of her. It was like she wasn't even my mother... which I guess now she isn't.

"I just need you to answer one question and then I'll get out of your life", I say with sternness, "Are you my actual mother?".

"No, I have no blood relation to you", she says flatly.

At this point, I'm beyond upset. I don't know how to take this. The woman I've lived my entire life with was a stranger.
I've been lied to my entire life, yet the only emotion I can feel is nothing. I get pushed out of my thoughts when I feel warm liquid dripping down my arm. I turn my head to see that mother's nails have found their way into my skin and that blood was seeping into my shirt. I struggle to pull away but her grip gets tighter and tighter. I let out a involuntary scream and mother let's out what seems to be a moan and a sigh. She looks at my face and whacks my forehead with a deafening sound.
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I wake up on a bed with my ankles chained to the wall. What kind of mental prison did this woman lock me into??

Fortunately, my feet were small enough to slide through the cuffs with a little bit of pulling.
As I stand up and walk around the room, I realize that I don't even know where I am. I was still most likely in my house as I've never been anywhere else. This room didn't even have windows I could look out of.

Taking my chances, I make my way towards the door and quietly open it just in case mother was somewhere close by.
I was about to take my first steps down the stairs when I hear a garage open. I freeze in my tracks, this could mean two things for me.
1. This could be the last opportunity for me to get away
2. Crap, my house didn't have a garage. Where was I?
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Hey guys! I'm finally back after this superrrr EXTENDED break. I'm not exactly loving this story, but I figured I'd give it a chance, any thoughts on the chapter?
& pls be honest, do you guys see potential in it?