Sublime Wreckage (14 page)

The door flies open to my bedroom slamming against the wall behind it. The look on her face says it all. She is beyond furious. Beyond reason. I try to brace myself, I really do but she knocks me to the ground with a punch to my face. I can taste the blood seeping out of my bottom lip. Before I can recover she is on top of me. Slapping me, pulling my hair, punching me everywhere she can. First it's my ribs, then my back, then another blow to my face. I try so hard to protect myself but she's got me pinned down with her legs. The fury in her eyes scares me to death. I can't get away. I just can't.

"You stupid little bitch! Why do you always have to ruin everything! Throwing yourself at my boyfriends like some cheap whore! How am I supposed to keep a man when you are constantly around? Answer me you worthless piece of shit!"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It won't happen again. I promise." Her whole body is vibrating with anger. My words don't seem to have any effect on her. She just keeps pounding her fist into my body. I'm laying with my back to the hard wood floors crying out in pain. Begging for her to stop. She finally gets winded enough that she needs her inhaler for her asthma. She climbs off of my limp body. I'm too frightened to open my eyes. I curl into my protective ball and wait. I hear her footsteps going down the hall. I can hear a faint sound coming from her bedroom. She's talking to herself. She does this sometimes after an explosion of this magnitude. I can never hear the exact words but it's usually more insults directed toward me. Sometimes she calms down enough that she leaves me alone, other times she comes back with a vengeance.

I lay shattered on the floor. I can already feel my face swelling. My jaw hurts when I move it even a little. I can't even assess the rest of the damage right now because I'm concentrating on her voice with every fiber of my being. Then I hear footsteps coming toward my room. I might break into hysterics if she comes near me right now. This is one of the worst beatings she has ever given me. I stay perfectly still trying not to cry from all the pain. The footsteps go past my room. Then I hear the television turn on in the living room. I let out more tears never moving from my position on the floor. I don't know if she will snap again tonight. I have to stay as protected as possible.

I don't know how much time has passed but I finally hear the television being turned off. I listen as closely as I can to every creak, every distinct sound this house makes when someone is walking down the hall. I feel her standing over me, watching me. Hatred, revulsion, and anger all pouring out of her body. I can feel it radiating off of her and onto me. I don't have to see her face to know how she feels about me in this moment. In her eyes I just ruined her relationship. I don't move a single muscle. I try to take very short, shallow breathes. Please, please just leave me alone. Another tear slips out of my eye and down my cheek. I hear her walk away slowly as if contemplating her next move. Then I hear her bedroom door slam shut.

I wait as long as my broken body will allow to make sure she is asleep before I move one inch of my body. I slowly crawl out of my bedroom and into the bathroom across the hall. I have never been so happy to have the bathroom this close before. Once I make it to the toilet I throw up again. My stomach is completely empty now. I start dry heaving and can't stop. It hurts so much. Pain is taking over my body. I can't breathe. Oh God, it hurts. I feel the anxiety building, making my body react to what it's just been through.

I have to calm down. This type of reaction will only make it worse. I start breathing in and out slowly. Telling myself over and over everything will be alright. Everything will be alright. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know there's a foot shoving itself into my shoulder.

"Get the hell out of my way!" Oh no. I never made it back to my room. I look up squinting my eyes in the sunlight. I wonder what time it is. Crap. I have to get up.

"Sorry. I'll get out of your way." It takes all the strength I have to pull myself off the bathroom floor. That's when I feel pain in places I didn't even know existed.

"You can't go to school looking like that. You'll have to stay home." I take a quick look in the mirror before heading back to my bedroom. Every movement I make hurts. My entire face is swollen. I have a fat bottom lip, a bruise on my right cheek bone and my eyes are extremely puffy from all the crying. She's right. I can't let anyone see me like this. I hear her go back to her room and close the door. I take my phone out to check the time. Shit. It's already close to 7:30. Amanda is going to be here any minute. I quickly text her and Vince that I'm really sick and won't be at school today. Then I immediately turn my phone off. Amanda isn't stupid. She will know exactly why I can't go to school. But Vince, he doesn't have a clue what my life is really like.

The entire time I was laying on the floor last night all I could think about was what could have happened to my mother to make her such an awful human being. I knew her parents. They seemed great. Loving and kind people. From what I know she had a great childhood. When I was younger I would get glimpses of her free spirited persona. She would take me on long road trips sometimes. She said driving around aimlessly helped clear her head. She would even smile at me in a loving, motherly way. Things have just gotten so much worse. And I have no clue why. She didn't hit me for the first time until after my father passed away. It started out with spanking. Sometimes she would smack me in the face but nothing more serious than that. It was after she lost her parents that things started getting worse. I don't know if it's because I got older so she felt I could take more or if something in her mind just snapped. When I started acting just like her things cooled down but the minute I decided I didn't want that kind of life, it's like she could see the determination in my eyes. She thinks it's her duty to take that from me. To take any hope of a better life. And I just don't know why.

I decide to go into the kitchen for an ice pack and pain meds. I have to start nursing my body back to health if I want to make it to school this week. I drink a full glass of water then go back to my room. I gently ease myself down to my bed. Even though I'm in pain, the softness of the mattress feels good on my injured body. After being on the floor all night it's almost like a little piece of heaven to lay on something soft. My body is just so stiff and sore that even the smallest amount of relief makes a big difference. I slowly drift off to sleep hoping to feel better.

The next three days are pure hell. She has entered her depression stage which means she is sleeping most of the day. It does give me time to recover but it also means when she is awake she is awful. This stage of depression can last weeks. She stays in her bedroom not bothering to get out of bed. She yells my name whenever she needs something. The swelling in my face finally went down yesterday but the bruise was pretty bad so I had to miss another day of school. I've told everyone I have the flu and to stay away. Amanda and Vince both seem so worried. They keep texting to check up on me. I keep telling them I'm fine and just need rest. I keep icing my ribs, back and face while taking ibuprofen. I know I just have to give it time. My body will recover from this. I just don't know about my own mental health. Being stuck in this house with the mother from hell isn't doing anything for my self-esteem. It's like being in my own personal prison cell. I decide to go to school tomorrow no matter how bad my face looks or how bad my body hurts. I just can't take being with her anymore.

"Maggie get your ass in here! Now!"

I get out of bed as quickly as my body will allow. I stand in her doorway waiting for her instructions. Her room isn't much bigger than mine. It's down the hall from my room just around the corner. She has a queen bed up against the wall, a small nightstand that is covered in junk next to it, a long dresser against the opposite wall and a tv stand right at the end of her bed.

"Fix me a fresh ice tea and get me something to eat!" I head into the kitchen, fix her drink, and then make a sandwich. I carry everything back to her bedroom and set it on the nightstand then turn to leave.

"I want my candy. Bring it in here now!" There is never a please or thank you. She just demands everything she wants. After I finish satisfying all of her needs I go back to the kitchen. My lip has been so sore that I've only been able to eat soup. I decide to try a sandwich today. I have to take small bites but I'm able to handle it.

The bruises covering sporadic parts of me are turning an awful yellow. They look hideous. Good thing no one has to see that part of my body. I will have to skip swim practice which means I will miss my last meet of the season. I learned how to forge my mother's signature a couple of years ago. It comes in handy when I have to lie about why I've missed school. I will just write another one for my coach. The season is almost over anyway. I don't even want to think about all the school work I missed. The house isn't the cleanest either. I'm so glad she has stayed in her room. I just haven't been able to push through the pain enough to care if the damn dishes get cleaned. I go back to bed in hopes that I will feel better in a few hours.

After resting, icing, taking meds, I finally start to feel like myself again. I sit up letting the ice pack fall to the floor. I really need to find something productive to do before I lose my mind. I don't know how she stays in this house all the time. I decide cleaning the kitchen will loosen my muscles enough to see if I will be able to survive school tomorrow. I take preemptive action fixing dinner before she can scream at me. The kitchen is clean and I have a delicious meal in front of me. I fix her plate with a fresh ice tea and head to her cave. She keeps the shades drawn all day so it seems like night all the time. She likes the dark. I prefer the light. Ironic isn't it.

"Here you go mom. I made your favorite." She rolls over blinking her eyes several times until it finally registers.

"Oh. Thanks. Just set it down. I'll get to it in a minute. Did you get to any of the housework?"

"Yes. The kitchen is clean. After dinner I will get to the bathroom and laundry." She sits up leaning against her headboard. Then she looks me over until she seems satisfied.

"Your face looks better."

"Yep. I'm planning on going to school tomorrow if that's alright?" I wait anxiously for her answer.

"That's probably a good idea. You don't want to miss anymore." She is actually being nice. I mean, this is nice for her. Sometimes when she is in her depressed state I see a tiny glimpse of the mother she could be if she just tried. She doesn't ask anything else so I head back to the kitchen to eat alone. The rest of the night is uneventful. I don't hear any more from her after I cleared her dirty dishes. I had called my boss earlier to let him know I was feeling better. He put me back on the schedule for Friday. That gives me one more day to recover. I decide to text Vince and Amanda. I know they have been worried.

Finally feeling better. Will be at school tomorrow. But I have to skip practice so maybe we can hang out.

I hit send but can't hold my eyes open long enough to see their responses.

I wake up with a tiny scream. I look around my room to find it empty. No one is here. It's just me. I must have had a bad dream. I look over at the clock. Almost time to get up. I might as well check out the damage. I slowly get out of bed feeling slightly better. I haven't had a shower in three days. It just hurt too much to even think about raising my arms above my head. I probably stink but who cares. It's not like anyone is around to smell my foulness. I take my time, letting the warm water wash away the grime of the last few days. It feels good to take care of myself. When the water starts turning cold I climb out and look in the mirror. My cheek isn't too bad. I should be able to cover it with make-up but my lip is another story. The swelling went down but I still have a small cut that is scabbed over. I decide the best solution is to cover it with lipstick. I pull a loose shirt over my head, slip into my jeans and put shoes on that I can slide into without having to bend over. I decide the best course of action is to be so utterly kind to my mother that she doesn't have any room to complain. I fix her a nice breakfast leaving it on her nightstand with a note. I explain that I will be back at work tomorrow but I should be home tonight after practice.

I eventually make my way out the front door. Amanda is waiting for me by the curb. At first she doesn't make eye contact.

"Hey. Did you survive without me?" I'm trying to lighten the mood. I don't know what's going on with her but she's acting kind of weird.

"Don't be mad at me okay?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"Just promise."

"Okay. I promise. What's going on? You're starting to freak me out." That's when I hear his voice from behind me.

"Maggie?"

Amanda starts talking so fast I can hardly understand her. "He wanted to know what was going on. He has been so worried about you. He came over to my house yesterday when we didn't hear from you all day. I just told him that you were sick. That everything was fine and not to worry but he said he had to see you." Her eyes are pleading with me not to be mad. I'm not. Not even a little. It's sweet that he is so concerned. And even though he might not know it, it's totally warranted. I give Amanda a small smile then turn to Vince.

"Hey Slick. I'm feeling much better. No need to send in the cavalry." I give him a little chuckle but he doesn't seem amused. He starts looking at me from head to toe covering every inch of my body with his eyes. Once he is finished with his exam I can see some of the worry leave his features. "I'm fine Vince. See, fit as a fiddle." He doesn't look convinced but doesn't press the issue.

"I want to give you a ride to school. I parked down the street. Amanda can ride along too." It doesn't seem like a question so I don't argue. Amanda's mood starts to lift when she sees that I'm not going to take her head off.

"So, are all of us going to hang out after school?" Amanda looks between Vince and me. She tells me that she doesn't have to go to the shop today and she wants to see Vince's house. I think she knows how much he wants to spend time with me so she doesn't even suggest going to her house.