Mia

Going home in the evenings is never fun, especially when you live in the worst area of the city. The most deprived people live in this area, as well as drug addicts, criminals, and also my family, probably the fairest thing to say is me and my mother. I think we could live in a better area if my mother didn’t take drugs, drink alcohol, and would find a decent job. (I don’t think she has it at all at the moment) She spends every dollar she earns for these listed hobbies. When I think better, I don’t even know where she’s getting the money, because I don’t really earn much.

When I get closer, I look at all the windows, first of all, making sure it’s dark everywhere. She must have gone somewhere or slept somewhere in the corner. When I get to the main door, I try to unlock the door as quietly as possible so that I don’t wake my mother if she’s still here. I slowly open the door and take a little step inside, closing the door after myself. I take a deeper breath, trying to calm myself down so that I can walk into my room in a quiet step.

“Look who decided to show up. When were you supposed to be back?!” She starts shouting at me. Suddenly she grabs behind my hair and makes me look right in her eyes. “Mom, let go, it hurts me.” I beg her, not wanting her to get even angrier. “Why is the fridge empty?” She screams even louder and drags my hair even stronger, my tears begin to roll on my cheeks uncontrollably.

“I’ll go tomorrow, I promise, just let me go.” I say trying to reassure her that things don’t turn in a worse direction to me. “I hope, otherwise you’re going to end up worse than you are now, you worthless a bitch!” She slaps me in the face and I collapse to the ground, holding my cheek and crying my eyes out.

When she disappears behind her bedroom door, I quickly stand up and run into my room, locking the door behind me. Once again, after checking that the door was really locked, I collapsed at the door crying. I cover my mouth with my hand and try to suppress my crying because if she hears me it could get worse. All this is my life, I do not know when exactly it all started, but it went gradually. I remember when we were one happy family, dad, mom, me, and my little sister, but unfortunately, now it was just me and mom.

If I remember well, it all started with the death of my little sister. She was five years old when doctors told us that she had leukemia, a very small percentage of people overcoming the disease. Unfortunately, my sister didn’t. They told us that she is too weak, that there is no treatment that will ensure her recovery. After her death, our lives turned upside down. My dad started working until late, trying to take his mind off the death of his child. My mother started drinking without knowing how to deal with the loss and not getting support from my father.

It’s been a few months, my father’s fed up with going home to his drunk wife, and my mother’s fed up with not seeing her husband all day long. The funniest thing is that none of them thought of me. I also lost a loved one, my sister. They didn’t stop for a minute and asked me how I was holding, or whether I needed a hug. All the time, they only thought about their grief.

Unable to live such a life, my father left my mother, gathered all his belongings, and just left. After losing another loved one, my mother started taking drugs. After some time, my dad found out about it and tried to take me out of it, but she didn’t let him. A year later, my father got into a car accident and died immediately, and so I lost another loved one. I’ve lost my whole family in those few years, even though my mother’s still alive, but she’s no longer the person who was before everything started to get worse.

It’s been seven years since my sister died, now I’m 17 years old. I have two best friends, Anna and Lisa, but they don’t know what’s going on in my house and I’m going to try to keep it as long as possible. I will not hide, I tried to commit suicide several times, but unfortunately, they all failed. I haven’t figured out if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Every day I think about it, maybe it would be better to end this nightmare. But then I would give up, admit my defeat.

I’m taking all the memories and bad thoughts aside, standing up and stepping into my bathroom. I look in the mirror in front of me. Slowly looking at my face, I notice the bruise that is beginning to form on the cheek, tomorrow it will look even worse. We’re going to have to get some makeup again. Next, I look at my long to the waist dark brown hair, light blue eyes. I’m not one of those skinny girls, but I’m not bigger either, I’d say I’m in the middle. I don’t deny that I’m beautiful, a lot of guys tell me that, but I never get into a romantic relationship with them.

I’m ready to go to bed. I’m checking if the door is locked and I’m going to sleep, I hope this night is quiet. Tomorrow is another day in my life that I have to endure. I hope it gets better.