Directions

The whole house was in darkness when I finally got home. I used the tiny bit of green light my phone gave off to find the stairs up to my bedroom and to avoid the clutter all over my floor. If I turned on the light, my mum would wake and launch into one of her lectures about being home late, or rather, early as my phone flashed 3:00AM.

I spread myself over my bed and lay still for a moment. I could still feel where a biro had scratched into my hand and left a phone number and I just smiled as I slowly drifted into a dreamless, but comfortable sleep.

I could feel stinging before I knew I was even awake. I remembered how much I ached from the previous night and I gradually let my eyes open, only to be blinded by the sun that streamed through my windows.

My jeans from the previous night clung to my legs as I stood up. I pushed my hair up by running my hand through it before peeking out my bedroom door and dashing to the bathroom.

Once the door was locked, I examined the damage that had been done to my face for the first time in decent light. Blackening around once eye, creeping down my cheek that had been opened and was now dry with old blood. My lower lip stuck out slightly where I'd bitten it and it'd bled again during my sleep. I could clean up the blooded nose and no one could see the sting that I felt each time I took some air in or let a bit out through my nostrils.

Beside the sink, there was a cabinet. I took a couple of pain killers and I looked forward to when they were going to kick in. I rooted around the shelves further and there was a small pot of compact powder that probably belonged to my mum back in the days. I stared at it for a second, thinking it might cover some of the bruises, but threw it down quickly and closed it all up before I came up with another stupid idea.

Unlocking the door slowly, I crept out and dashed for the door to shove my feet in my shoes. Before I had found the key to unlock the front door, I could here my mum shouting from her room and her feet moving along the carpet.

"Ian, is that you? I need to talk to you."

I ignored her and pushed the key in the hole. I'd got the door open and I could feel freedom.

"Ian Watkins, close that door now." She had reached the top of the stairs and I thought for a second. I could run now and receive the longer and more severe punishment or I could do as she asked as close the door and just hope she doesn't notice the cuts and bruises.

I chose the latter.

"What time did you get in last night?" She questioned, walking down the stairs.

I stayed facing the door, "Dunno." I mumbled.

"It was after one." She said and I chewed my bottom lip slightly. "Can you turn around please so I can have the conversation with you, not your back."

I kept my head down and made sure my hair covered as much of my face as possible, but it only just reached on eye.

She stepped forward and just knocked my chin up. Even though I was already many inches above her height, I still feared her. This was my mother and she had power over me that no other human did. I had spent my life trying to please her and even if she said she was happy, it still wasn't enough.

"Fighting?" There was more worry in her expression then anger. I felt a little better now knowing she wasn't going to cuss me and stop cooking me any apple pie.

"No. This guy had too much to drink and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." I shrugged, looking back down at my feet.

"Try and keep to the right places then, okay?" More of an order then a question, but I nodded quickly. "So where were you off to so quickly this morning?"

"I need to get my jacket back. I left it with Mike." When I said I left it with Mike, I hoped he'd noticed I hadn't gone back into the club and he'd picked it up. Or someone had spotted it and thought of me, then picked it up.

"Okay. Let me know what you're doing later and don't be back late again."

I nodded again and she left me for the kitchen. I smiled at how little trouble I was in and went off in search of my clothes.