Bruised and Beat Up

Serving detention wasn't so bad. It kept me away from my mom for a few hours, and allowed me to sleep with my head on the desk. It was so much better than sleeping at home. There, it felt like I could never go to sleep properly. It was bad. Hearing my mom moving around downstairs on her own drunken and sleepless nights made it harder for me to fall asleep.
"You can go now, Miss. Hensley."
I lifted my head from the cold surface, and looked up at Mr. Yates. I got up from the desk slowly again, and then I walked out of the classroom as slowly as I could without hurting myself. I got to the parking lot where my car was practically the only one there. After slipping in my car, I drove around town. I drove for over an hour and a half before I saw the sun going down. It must have been around six. I drove quickly to my house. I dreaded even walking in. I knew what was going to happen. I'm not so dumb as to believe that she could magically be sober. It doesn't happen that way.
"Mom, I'm home!"
"In the kitchen!" She yelled back harshly.
I flinched, and walked toward the kitchen.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I'm out of vodka." She grimaced.
"When did you run out?" I asked, tip toeing around to see if she had drank yet or not.
"Last night, but I could have sworn I had more." She replied. My mom huffed and smiled at me. "Looks like I'm going drink free for a few days. We're low on money."
"Oohh. Okay." I nodded, slightly glad that my sweet mom was here.
"Honey, come here," My mom said, patting the empty seat beside her.
Gingerly, I accepted and sat down. I didn't like being this close to her.
"Y-yeah?"
"I know that you hate when I drink...but i-it's the only way I can stop...feeling the pain."
"Mom....I wish that you didn't drink until you passed out. You never remember anything."
"I know... and I'm sorry. I haven't been the mom I should've been."
"Mom...stop..." I sighed heavily.
"Okay...." She nodded, looking at my arms. "Why are you wearing long sleeves?"
"N-no reason." I laughed. "Can I go to the beach?"
My mom watched me carefully.
"Fine. But be back before eleven. Okay, Raavi?"
"Okay." I nodded my head in agreement before I got up and walked right back out of the house, leaving my backpack and such in the kitchen. I slipped into my car again, and went to the beach. I locked my car doors and found my usual spot on the sand.
This is my spot.
This is my safety place where I can just sit down and just feel my pain.
It's all over my body. The muscles are tight and bruised.
I'm more than positive that my rib is broken.
But I'm not. I will not break because of my mom.
Because she's the devil.
This, however, is what I am.
I'm bruised and beat up.
This is, and always will be who I am.
This is me.