Ashes of the Past

Chapter One: Leaving for Good

I shut off my car and get out quickly. Another late shift at the diner, at least tomorrow is Saturday. As soon as I turned sixteen I began working at the local diner to save as much as possible to get as far away from here as possible. I look up at the pale blue house in front of me. 

This isn't my home anymore. This is my hell hole!

I take a deep breath to prepare myself before going in. I just hope SHE didn't get more alcohol. Even I have to admit that SHE has been doing a lot better in the last few weeks, but that is because HER check has yet to come in. At the beginning of summer SHE was drinking so much that SHE had become a bit violent. I can handle a bottle being throw at me or a simple slap to the face because I know I won't have to bare HER much longer.

I walk in and stop in the hall putting my shoes in the closet by the door. I can hear HER talking to herself. I follow HER voice to the kitchen. Glass shatters and I freeze, SHE is on another bender. My chest aches with panic and my head feels as light as a feather. Still not processing that the now broken wine bottle had been aimed at me, I remain planted to the spot. My eyes widen as a wine glass comes hurtling toward me.

I dive left to avoid the fragmenting pieces of glass, only to trip and hit my right side on the sharp edge of the dinner table. I gasp in pain and try to hold back tears that begin to burst forth.

"Oopsie! Is my little princess hurt?" SHE laughs like a madwoman.

Ignoring her I grip at my side just above the waistband of my work uniform pants. I turn away refusing to allow HER the satisfaction of seeing the tears or blood leaking. I take off in a brisk pace toward where I had just entered.

"Where do you think you are going?" SHE screeches as she yanks a fist full of my hair and shoves me to the ground. "Mommy didn't say you could leave yet!"

I try to stand, but  am shoved back down and gets a kick in my midsection. I cry out in pain and struggle to get away, but in HER drunken stupor SHE is much stronger than me.

I gather all the strength within me, I spring up, push her away from me, and bolt to my room upstairs. I lock the door behind me and throw myself unto my bed. I let out all the tears I have been holding in for the last four years. Tear for deceased daddy; tears for my profusely depressed mom; and most importantly, tears for the pain.

I continue to cry until HER screams and banging had long ceased. I finally feel as if I have dried up completely. I remove myself from the bed and walk into the attached bathroom. I push my lackluster, brown hair behind my ear as I examine myself in the mirror. I am too thin, too pale, and too fragile looking.

Gwen, stop putting down on yourself. Not the time for that!

I grab a wash cloth and go about cleaning my wounds SHE gave me. One rarely hears me call that woman my mom anymore. SHE hasn't been my mom since after my dad died nearly four years ago. I was twelve years old then and quickly came to the realization that my mom was gone. She was replaced with a monster, who drank all day and tell me that it was my fault that my daddy was dead.

When I reach my right side I hiss each time I place the cloth on the cut. My blood boils thinking that she would do this to her own daughter. I finish cleaning and bandaging myself and go into my room, and look at my bedside clock.

4:36

I'm leaving.

Now.

I can't take this any longer.

She will only get worse.

If I don't leave now, I will never leave.

This is what I tell myself as I pack my belongings. I already have important things, like documents and old photo albums filled with good memories, hidden away in my car. I know exactly where I will go. To my Aunt Thea's, my dad's sister, in my dad's hometown, Brooklyn, Mississippi. South Mississippi couldn't be that different from South Georgia.

I have been communicating with her a lot lately and she had invited me to come live with her. She knows that mom has been living in the bottom of the bottle since my dad's death. Aunt Thea could be what saves me from a terrible fate.

I quietly make my way downstairs with on of the duffel bags I packed. As I pass the living room I see HER unconscious on the floor next to couch. Shaking my head I carry the bag on out to my car. I finish taking the two other bags out to my car and go lock the front door. I look in the place that was once a beautiful home to me and wonder if I will miss this place.

Because I am leaving for good.

So this is the first one I have actually put on Wattpad. Please let me know what you think!!!