Well I Was Sleeping

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My name is Lindsey Rider. My mother is an alcoholic , but that is hardly where my story starts. I was in a car crash, that sent me straight to a coma. Though I was greeted with the unexpected. Meeting new friends and a possible lover can I escape this coma, that seems to be more of a game as I find more and more evidence that someone put us all in here on purpose.

Mystery / Romance
4.9 7 reviews
Age Rating:

Car Crash

I've always had a hard life, my mother is an acholic. Ever since I turned eighteen I was forced to pay her bills now. Don’t get me wrong I would never abandon my mother ever, but some days I just wished that I could just only for a few hours escape into a fantasy world. Have fun adventures and trusting friends, maybe even a little bit of romance in my story.

Though fate decided differently for me, giving me a life of hassle and stress to make the deadlines for everything. My mother was quite angry all the time, but some days she would make an effort to pull it together only to be knocked down and return to her old habits. I felt sad and guilty for her so I would always do anything I could to make her happy. Ever since my father got into a coma, mother has never been the same. He has been in a coma for at least 8 years now. I know I can't complain, so many other people have it worse than me. Sure my mother was an alcoholic but she would never hurt me in any physical way. My father was a sad story I wonder if he will ever find peace again.

I worked as an accountant as well as taking a night shift at an old gas station. Though it kept food on the table, it would always never be enough, but just enough to keep our heads above the surface. I’m driving back home from another day of accounting, rushing to get back to change into my gas station clothes. It was always on the run for me, racing to get on time for my jobs.

As I drove into my garage I already saw my mother in another one of her rampages.
Right as I take one step into the doorway she is on me like a pack of wolves on their prey. In her drunken state she staggers over to me, her head lolled to the side, with a bottle loosely in her hand. “Lindsey, what’s the hold up, where's my bottle?” I sigh, taking her by the shoulder gently.

“It's in your hand mother.” I say gently, leading her carefully onto the couch. Instead of laying on it she squares up to me, scaring me-- this was new. “No it’s not, why are you always gone all the time, Huh you're planning to leave me aren't you, you little brat.” I knew she was drunk, but it still felt like a slap to my face to be accused of ever leaving her.

Shaking my head, “No mama I would never leave you, I need to work to pay for our bills.” She scoffs, shaking her head, laughing maniacally, “You bitch, stop lying, you're just like your father aren't you?” Her voice started to shake with anger. She looks at me with accusation in her eyes, even slightly hurt.

“After all I have done for you, this is how you repay me you little shit!” I back up fearfully as I see her raising her half filled glass bottle. I plead with her to drop the bottle, she has never done this before, feeling anxious as she continues to take threatening steps towards me.

All of a sudden she lunges at me screaming, managing to slam the bottle down on me. I scream in agony as I barely dodge it hitting my head. The corner of the bottle shattered on my shoulder. I cry out in pain as I feel the glass shards digging into my skin. I hold my shoulder wincing at the awful sight of blood dripping out of the wound.

Mother looks like she snapped out of whatever angry haze she was in at the sight of my blood, and she looks down to me. “Oh my God Lindsey what have I done, Oh God.” She reaches out to me, guilt pouring into her expression.

I instinctively flinch at her outreached hand.
Immediately regretting it after I see the sadness that lingered on my mothers face at the sight of me cowering away from her. Without saying a word she turns and sluggishly walks out of the room, closing the door behind her. I wince as I move to go to the bathroom. I pull out the small glass shards with tweezers, hissing at every one of them I pull out.

Finally getting them out, I knew I had to clean up the mess later, grabbing some bandages I carefully placed them on tightly. My heart is still hammering in my chest at the events that happened. I can't believe my own mother striked me with a glass bottle. Feeling myself tear up at finally purchasing what just happened. I knew I was gonna be late for my night shift, so I quickly wiped away my tears pulling on my work clothes and heading out to my car.

Though my outer appearance was frozen and numb my insides were crumbling and tearing apart. Before I knew it my eyes burst into tears. My own mother hit me. I never thought that day would come, I thought she always loved me that it would never come to that. She took all I hoped and wished was just her grief and smashed it onto me.

My eyes got so blurred by my tears that I didn't see the truck that was driving right towards me. It was too late, I slammed on my brakes only to smash head first into the truck. My whole body went numb as I felt the glass shattering all around me. My sobs increase as I feel myself rolling downhill. I try to grab onto anything that could soften the blow, but coming up with nothing.

I rolled for what felt like forever before I touched ground slamming my whole body down. I couldn't even feel the pain at all, it was all numb and dead inside. I felt my brain take me somewhere else. Though I was hyper aware of all that just happened. I just couldn't move. I felt like I was stuck in that one position.

Deciding this is my fate, I'm sorry mother for leaving you like this. That's when everything went dark and I split into the darkness.
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