Insane

Chapter 2

Arabella POV

I set my keys and phone down by the door as quietly as I could. I wasn't a stranger to that sound and I knew that this wouldn't end well. I walked into the kitchen and saw my mom with a bottle of vodka in her hand and a cigarette in the other.

"Ohhh heyyyy Amyyyy," she slurred and stumbled towards me. I ignored the fact that she called me the wrong name and that she wreaked of alcohol and smoke. "I wasss swondering wheen youuu were comin homee," she laughed.

"Hi Mom, how about we get you to bed and I'll clean up the glass," I calmly said hoping I could just get her to bed without having her flip out and become violent.

She looked at me confused and said, "Nooo I'm having funnnn," she laughed and took another swig of vodka.

I reached for the bottle and said, "No that's enough let's go to bed." My fingers slightly grazed the bottle before I heard a smacking sound. My face felt like it was on fire and my hand immediately cupped my cheek. I looked up at her and her facial expression completely changed. Her eyes were menacing and her jaw was clenched.

"Don't touch my bottle you stupid bitch!" she yelled and hit me again, but this time in the stomach. I doubled over in pain and curled up into a fetal position on the floor clutching my stomach. I yelped in pain as she repeatedly kicked my stomach and shouted at me. "Who do you think you are huh? I'll tell you who you are! No one! You're a pathetic slut who shouldn't even be alive!" she continued to scream at me and kick me until she finished all the liquid in the bottle. She drank the last bit and then threw the bottle next to my head. It broke and glass shot all over the room and into my hair. I blocked my face with my hands to avoid getting cut, but a shard sliced my forehead and it started to bleed. I heard her stumble away from me and up the stairs. She slammed her door shut and the sound made me tense up. I tried to sit up, but immediately regretted it as the pain in my ribs increased so I fell back down to the floor. I whimpered in pain and clutched my stomach again. I laid there for an hour praying she fell asleep and wouldn't come back down to beat me even more. I knew Ryan was probably out partying, so I didn't bother calling him. I slowly got up and walked to the sink. I grabbed the small washcloth next to the soap and held it under the faucet. I wetted the cloth and started to clean up the cut on my forehead. I winced in pain as the cloth came into contact with my wound.

"Fuck," I hissed as I continued to clean the cut. This wasn't the first time she beat me. I still have a two inch scar on my leg from when she threw a lamp at me and it cut my thigh. I finished cleaning up my cut and started to sweep up the mess on the floor. As I swept, her words kept replaying in my head. I shook it off and kept cleaning the wood floor. I don't let her words get to me. I can't let them get to me.