I didn’t know who she was, but she definitely wasn’t my mother. Not anymore.
“Stop it mom! You’re hurting me.”
“I’ll stop when you give me your money!”
“I told you I don’t have any.” I was lying through my teeth, but it was for her own good.
“Don’t lie to me Ally, I know you worked today! Ray saw you!”
“Ray is as strung out as you mom. He thought he saw a clown in his cereal yesterday!”
“Then where were you, HUH?!”
“At Laney’s… Swimming,” I winced as my mom slapped me across the face, causing me to stumble backward. Everything went black for a minute after a loud THWACK. The sound of my skull hitting the concrete wall of the garage made me want to vomit.
“Look at me!” I looked in the direction of her voice, seeing nothing but purple spots around a thin frail figure. I slumped to the ground, holding back tears. She couldn’t see me cry. I won’t give her the satisfaction.
“If you don’t give me that money I swear you’ll be homeless!”
“If I give you that money we’ll all be homeless! Who do you think has been paying our rent?”
“You’ve been hording money from me? You little witch!”
“I keep us in this crap hole! I work my butt off for you!” I could see her now, the spots almost gone. My sick mother stood in front of me, a mere shell of who she used to be. Her dry cracked lips spread in an evil grin and with a dark look in her sunken-in, blood shot eyes; she reached down and grabbed me by the collar, the look of attack displayed on her pale face. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in days. She’ll probably be binging soon.
I shook my head, dazed and confused. I looked into the face of my daughter Marissa. What just happened? I took in my surroundings. We were in a bathroom, my hands clutched around Marissa’s collar, fear in her eyes. The memory of my childhood had been so strong, trance like.
“Mom, let me go!”
I glanced past her at the mirror on the wall, catching a glimpse of a battered woman. Her were eyes sunken in, her skin was puce in color. The face staring back at me was not my own. It was then that I realized, I had become my mother.
This was the second story I submitted to FINISH THAT THOUGHT #2-44. The story didn’t place but here is what the judge had to say about it.
“Fallen Apple – realmommaramblings – Wow! Opening with raw dialogue and ending with a clever perspective switch, this story depicts the erosive power of addiction. After enduring hardships a daughter shouldn’t have to survive, the protagonist succumbs to her past demons, proving that the apple truly doesn’t fall far from this rotting tree. So sad.” – Foy S. Iver