Stepping out into the parking lot after finishing my shift for the night, I was hoping that Charlotte and her latest boyfriend would be fast asleep. I hadn't met her latest boyfriend yet so I had no idea what to expect from him, but I highly doubted that he was the perfect man that every woman wanted and needed. Most likely he was a drunk or a drug addict, who couldn't hold a job, or did something else horrible that I seriously hoped that I would never have to deal with again.
I could say life with Charlotte was never dull, but I would seriously take a boring life over the one I have now. That boring life wasn't too far away though. Once I turned eighteen, I would be getting as far away as I could from Charlotte. It's one of the reasons why I always got a job no matter how many times we moved, which was about every two weeks, depending on how much Charlotte had screwed up. Because she was always bound up to screw up something.
Well, it was more like how many people Charlotte had screwed over while living in the current town she had chose to live in. She not only had an obsession with bringing home a different man every night, even if she already had a boyfriend, but she also loved messing with people's lives like it was her professional job. Charlotte had once told me, when I had asked her why she enjoyed messing with people's lives, that she thought it was fun.
It usually didn't take Charlotte too long to screw someone over. I think the longest we've ever stayed in one city was for six months, not including the city I was born in since we were there for three years before Charlotte decided to take me away from the family I don't even remember. The city that we lived in for six months was the only city I actually had any friends in.
Every other city I didn't bother to make friends because I knew that we would be moving not too long after we arrived. I stopped making friends because in the end I knew that I would have to say goodbye to them. And you can't really get a real friendship in two weeks or less. So, I stopped even trying to make an effort to be friends with someone.
Sure, I talked to people, but that was it. I didn't make the effort to show them that I wanted to be friends with them and talk to them more because soon after that I would be gone and I would never see those people again because Charlotte never liked moving back to the same place twice.
But no matter how long we were living in a city, I got a job so I could save up money to move far away from Charlotte the second I was allowed to. Before I was actually allowed to get a job, I baby sat various kids, which was kind of hard to do since not every parent was willing to let a complete stranger watch over their child, but I still got babysitting jobs every once in awhile, which helped me save of a little bit of money over the years.
I didn't have enough to buy my own place once I turned eighteen, but I definitely had enough to get me to California, also known as the only state Charlotte won't move to.
The reason being why Charlotte won't move there is because there's family there that I could hopefully stay with when I turned eighteen. It felt like I had never met the family that Charlotte had made me leave behind even though I had been around them for the first three years of my life. But since I had been so young, I couldn't remember any of the time I spent in California, which I meant I had no memories of what my family was like or even what they looked liked. There was no way I could understand why Charlotte took a three year old with her when all she wanted to do was live on the wild side and have no responsibility.
For some reason Charlotte just had to take me with her. She denied it every time I brought up the subject because that's the only way the subject of my father could come up, but I had a feeling that it had to do with him. I had never met my father and had no idea who he was, but that was a whole other story for another time. And it was currently an incomplete story that I hoped to fix one day when I was no longer bound to Charlotte.
I crossed the parking lot after exiting the diner that I worked at and then got into the car that I shared with Charlotte. It was more mine than it was Charlotte's since I used it more, but she was the one who had bought it. She usually had one of her friends or her latest boyfriend come pick her up since the car was usually either at the school I went to or at the current diner I was working at.
It was summertime though so I was only using the car for work at the moment, but Charlotte still didn't use it that often. Except when she went to work unless she got a ride from someone else, which was at a different diner than the one I worked at. I saw enough of her at home so there was no way I was going to work at the same place as her.
After leaving the parking lot I started the drive home, feeling nervous about what I would find when I would actually arrive at the small apartment that Charlotte and I lived in. Charlotte had never made enough to live in a house so apartments were all that I had lived in my whole life. I had always wondered what it would be like to live in a house, but that dream was far away right now while I was still seventeen years old.
And it may not even happen after I turned eighteen because I had no idea what Charlotte's family was like. It was very possible that they were just as awful as she was. But I was really hoping that they weren't.
It took me about twenty-five minutes until I was pulling into the apartment complex that our apartment was located in. Once I reached the parking spot for our apartment, I pulled into it and then turned off the car. Grabbing my things after pulling the key out of the ignition, I opened up the door and then stepped out of the car.
After shutting the door, I locked the car and then headed over to the apartment that I lived in. I climbed the stairs and then walked across the small porch that we shared with the apartment on the left to the door to our apartment. I unlocked the door and then stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. After making sure the door was locked, I turned around and saw that the whole apartment seemed to be in darkness.
There were no noises that I could hear, which hopefully meant that Charlotte and her boyfriend were fast asleep. I knew that they were here even though I had no idea what kind of car Charlotte's new boyfriend had, so I couldn't check the parking lot for it even if I wanted to. But I knew that they were here because Charlotte always brought her boyfriends home after a long hard day of doing nothing.
And I knew what they had been doing since they had arrived at the apartment so hopefully all the sex they had been having had tired them out enough and I wouldn't have to meet the newest boyfriend Charlotte had found. That sometimes happened, me never meeting them, and I preferred it that way. Some of them just creeped me out so I did my best to avoid meeting them.
I didn't have to step too much farther into the apartment though to find out what type of boyfriend Charlotte had brought home this time, as I felt someone grab and slam me very hard against the wall next to door. It made one of the few pictures hanging up in the apartment shake against the wall I had been thrown into.
I felt his grip was tight around my arms as I dropped my purse and keys onto the floor and then tried to push away the man that Charlotte brought home with her tonight, but he was stronger than me so I felt myself being slammed into the wall again. And then again. It repeated a couple more times after that until I blacked out.
Charlotte didn't come to help me, which wasn't a surprise to me at all. She knew what was going on or what was going to happen even if she was fast asleep. There was going to be a mess of broken furniture and other objects when she woke up so she'd know that she had brought home another boyfriend who was abusive. And I'd probably end up getting blamed for it, not just the mess that was left behind but for provoking her boyfriend into being abusive.
That was the typical reaction from her. Somehow everything was my fault in Charlotte's eyes no matter if I had or hadn't done something wrong. She liked to blame me for all the mistakes and problems in her life that she caused just because she could.
***
When I woke up I was still in the living room, lying where I had blacked out. The apartment was silent and a mess, but I pulled myself up off of the floor wincing every time I moved. Everything seemed to hurt and I knew that I was going to have quite a few bruises after what had happened last night. After standing up, I looked around for my purse and keys. They were still on the ground and after picking them up, I went to look in my wallet to see if anything was gone.
At least this boyfriend wasn't a thief. I had only a couple of dollars in my wallet because I knew better than to keep money on me when I came home, at least a good size amount that I would definitely miss. The money that I did have in my wallet was actually still there so this boyfriend must have decided a couple of dollars wasn't worth stealing. Or he hadn't even gone through my wallet.
I left the living room in the mess that it was in even though I was going to be the one cleaning it up. Charlotte wasn't going to lift a finger to clean this place up. She never did. But I didn't feel like cleaning up the living room at the moment. I would do that later when my body ached a little less and I could move around more without wincing. I headed into my room noticing that Charlotte's door was closed, but that was never a sign telling me that she was in there or not.
She wasn't out in the living room or kitchen, but that didn't mean that she wasn't still here. There was a possibility that she was gone, but Charlotte could also still be asleep. Once I was in my room, I shut the door behind me and then went over to my closet.
Since I had no idea whether or not Charlotte was still here, I also had no idea where her boyfriend was. So, I was going to wait to take a shower until I knew that they were both out of the house. I would feel safer that way because even though I locked the door, they seemed to always find their way in. The same went for my bedroom, which is why the rest of my money was tucked away safely in a bank account. I wasn't stupid enough to stash it in my room, where Charlotte or one of her many boyfriends could find it.
There may be a lock on my door, but they always found some way in and my money disappeared. I didn't really care if Charlotte when through my room because I didn't have that much to go through, but I liked having a working lock just to make it harder for her to get in. it would have been too easy for Charlotte and whoever else wanted to get into my room if I didn't have a lock.
After going through my closet and picking out something to wear, I changed out of the clothes that I had been wearing yesterday while at work and then changed into the fresh clothes that I had picked out. Once I had changed, I picked up the clothes I had been wearing and threw them into the corner to be washed later. I had just cleaned a bunch of my clothes so my next laundry date wasn't for a couple of days. I decided to head back to the living room so I could get something to eat in the kitchen.
There was nothing left for me to do in my room anyways and I wasn't going to stay in here all day. I grabbed my keys and tucked them into the back of my pocket so I would know where they were at all times and then went over to my closed door, unlocking it once I reached it.
When the door was open, I stepped out cautiously since I had no idea if Charlotte and her boyfriend were still here. I didn't want to run into them, but I didn't always get my way. There were still no sounds coming from the rest of the apartment so I wondered if Charlotte and her boyfriend had left before I had woken up. I didn't know Charlotte's work schedule so I had no idea if she was working today or not.
And if she was working, then I also had no idea what time she was actually working today. She could either be at work right now or she could be out somewhere with her boyfriend or one of her friends. I didn't know though because I preferred to have the least amount of conversations as I could with Charlotte.
As I walked further into the living room and past Charlotte's room, which was down the short hallway from mine, I saw that her door was open. There didn't seem to be anyone in there, but I couldn't tell for sure without going into her room, which was something I avoided the best I could. I couldn't actually remember the last time I had been in Charlotte's room since I never wanted to risk the chance of running into one of her boyfriends especially when they were the abusive type.
After passing by Charlotte's room, I turned my head to look into the living room, where I found no one in there either. So far so good, but I spoke too soon.
"Well finally you wake up! What the hell did you do last night?" Charlotte said in her irritating voice, making me jump. So, I wasn't alone in the apartment after all. I turned to my left as I stood in the middle of the living room, which was a complete mess, and saw that she was alone in the kitchen, sitting at the small table. It looked like she had been waiting for me.
There was nothing sitting on the table in front of her so she hadn't been eating anything, just waiting for me. I had no idea what time of the day it was so there's a possibility that I could have slept through breakfast and lunch. My mind hadn't thought to check the time after I had woken up, just to see if I still had any money left in my wallet.
Even though I was expecting to get blamed for what had happened to living room, I didn't want to deal with listening to Charlotte at the moment. I just wanted to take a shower and wash away everything that had happened last night. I would have taken a shower after I had gotten up, but I had to make sure that Charlotte's boyfriend was gone. There was no way I was going to take a shower with him in the apartment.
"Do you really want to know what happened? Or do you already have it already figured out who to blame? Because it probably doesn't matter if I tell you that when I came home from work, I got attacked by your boyfriend! That's what I did last night even though it was something that I didn't want to happen again. All this mess you see here around us is because of him and what he did to me! And I know you know that I'm telling the truth, but you still like putting the blame on me no matter what because you're such a horrible person, who gets such a thrill at seeing other people in pain!" I yelled at her.
I may be scared of the abusive boyfriends Charlotte brought home, but I wasn't scared of her. And I knew we were going to get into a fight over this so I might as well just start the fight now so I could get it over with as quickly as possible. This is how most of our conversations went anyways. We yelled at each other because all we ever did was fight and we didn't know how to have a civil conversation with each other.
Too much had happened between us to ever have the kind of relationship I wished we could have. I knew better than to hope that I would ever have a good relationship with Charlotte. It was too doomed from the start.
"Let's not go through this again, Rhiannon. We have the same fight over and over. You know you're never going to win it," she said giving me a look that told me she knew she was right, which I guess was true.
Charlotte never let me win any conversation since she never decided to be the bigger person. And as long as I was living here it was always going to be that way, but I wasn't going to stop standing up for myself. There was no way I was going to give her that satisfaction and completely give in.
But before either of us could continue our fight, there was a knock on the door. We both looked over at the door, wondering who it could be. Obviously Charlotte hadn't invited anyone over since she had a surprised look on her face. I stood still though waiting for her to make the move to answer the door because there was no way I was going to answer it especially if it ended up being her boyfriend on the other side of the door.
I was going to avoid a repeat of last night as best as I could and that meant I was sticking to the spot I was standing in. Charlotte seemed unsure of whether or not she wanted to answer the door as well since she didn't get up to go answer. She chose to stay in the chair she was sitting in.
"Open up! This is the police!" someone yelled and then started banging on the door. I thought they were almost going to break it down with how hard they were banging on the door, but they thankfully they didn't. I didn't want to have a broken front door that was only going to bring more problems into the apartment.
Charlotte seemed to be just as surprised as I was that the police at our door. With all her wild ways, it was a miracle that Charlotte had avoided getting arrested over the thirty-six years she had been alive. She usually was able to talk her way out of certain situations that she had gotten herself into when the police had come around so it wasn't a surprise when she pulled down her shirt a little bit to show off her cleavage more, which wasn't really needed since the shirt she had chosen to wear today was already showing off more than enough cleavage than she needed to show.
She was probably happy with herself with the outfit she had chosen to wear today since she had paired that cleavage baring shirt with a short black skirt. It came in handy now that she needed to charm the police officers that were at the front door, but she looked completely ridiculous.
I imagined, as Charlotte opened the door to reveal herself to the police officers on the other side of the door, that she had plastered a charming smile on her face, ready to weasel her way out of the trouble she had gotten herself into this time, but hopefully she wouldn't be so lucky. When Charlotte opened the door, I saw that there were three police officers, from what I could tell, standing on the landing. The one that started talking as soon as Charlotte had opened the door was holding up a piece of paper so Charlotte could see it as he said with a straight face, "We have a warrant to search the premises. Please step aside."
"Of course, officer. We have nothing to hide from you," Charlotte said sweetly as she stepped aside to let the police officers come into the apartment.
There were actually four of them now that I could see all of them as they stepped into the apartment. Three of them were men and the fourth police officer was a woman. I watched them as they stopped by the front door with the woman officer shutting the door and two of the men officers starting to look around the room, obviously searching for something.
"What exactly are you looking for? Maybe I could help you search quicker by directing you to where it would be?" Charlotte asked batting her eyes at the officer, who was still holding the warrant. He seemed to be in charge. And Charlotte seemed to want to flirt her way out of this.
I didn't hear his answer since the woman officer came up to me, but I did see the officer in charge hand over the warrant so Charlotte could look over it. After watching Charlotte read the warrant for a few seconds, I directed my attention back the officer standing in front of me, waiting for my attention. She smiled kindly at me and asked me if there was some place that we could go and talk.
I nodded my head and then lead her into my room since it was the only other place we could go and talk with each other. We both sat down on my bed, which was the only place to sit down since I didn't have any other furniture in my room. The officer looked around the room briefly before turning her attention back on me and saying, "I'm Officer Moreno. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?"
"Sure, it is. I've got nothing hide from you," I replied smiling back at her. She nodded her head and then took out a notebook and a pencil from the pocket of her uniform before asking, "Let's start off with an easy question. What's your name?"
"Rhiannon Blake. Do you need me to spell Rhiannon for you?" I asked her. She shook her head no as she wrote down my name on her notebook. Then she looked up at me and said, "Thanks, but I know how to spell your name."
"No problem," I replied.
Before Officer Moreno could ask me her next question, there was a bunch of commotion in the living room. It sounded like something had been knocked over, but it was hard to tell because next came yelling. From Charlotte, of course. It sounded like she was unhappy with whatever the police were looking for. She sounded angry that they thought they would find whatever was on the warrant in her apartment. I knew she was just trying to play the innocent victim. Whatever was on the warrant was most likely in the apartment.
"Seems like Mrs. Blake is unhappy," Officer Moreno said bringing my attention back to her. I nodded my head and then said, "It's Ms. Blake. Charlotte isn't married."
"Of course. And what's your relation to Charlotte Blake?" she asked me. This was the question I was dreading the most because I always hated admitting who Charlotte really was supposed to be. It always brought up more questions that I didn't want to answer, but I couldn't lie to the police officer sitting next to me, especially if she could end up being my ticket out of here so I said, "Charlotte is unfortunately, my mother."
Officer Moreno gave me a weird look, but it disappeared from her face as quickly as it had come. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only person in the world who didn't want their mother to be their actual biological mother, but to someone who probably loved their mother, possibly like Officer Moreno, it would be weird to hear someone say something bad about their mother. She couldn't possibly know all the things done to me by Charlotte.
But if she couldn't tell by looking around my room that things weren't great around here, then she probably wouldn't have guessed that Charlotte was the reason for that. It would probably be hard for someone who loved their mother to recognize when a daughter didn't love her mother.
It was going to take a very long story to explain why I didn't want Charlotte to be my mother. And I don't think that was what Officer Moreno was here for.