I knew she was drunk and I know she probably didn't even notice. But I did.
My mom and I sitting there having a convo about how she was drunk, then as a song starts to play. SHE, the one, stands up, goes behind me and sits down. Our bodies in contact, I feel her hands going up and down my sides and her nails touching along my t-shirt. Why. WHY! I didn't get it WE.ARE.NOT.COLSE.
As I try to escape this sandwich of drunk moms She grabs my body pulling it back down. I go out of balance. Next thing I know She brings her nails down to the soles of my feet in an attempt to tickle me. In return I get this feeling. Hard to describe, or not...
The feeling of disgust flushing over me, a unpleasant expression on my face appears. Her hands, her face, her words, her gut. I hate them all. And all of this to a family friend, tsk.. more like a half ass person that happens to be together with my dads childhood friend.
Why her. I don't get it, as these thoughts run through my head, and while trying to get away from the living room. She grabs my arm to pull me back, I resist, She grips harder, I shake her off with one sharp pull. A red outline appears as her nails scratched against my white skin. I move fast. Into my room. Door closed. I fall. On the floor I'm left crying, all by myself again. I've gotten used to it by now...
I look at my arm in disgust, now hating the fact that Her skin cells were now a part of my body. A mark on my body left by Her. She couldn't keep her filthy hands to herself, now questioning if she even washed them. This woman I didn't want in my house is staying for the night.
Hope nightmares don't haunt me tonight...
