Breaking Free

I missed school for the next week. Mum told them we went to visit family when I was really holed up in bed waiting for the cuts to heal. My Aunt Belle is a nurse and she was able to treat me without arousing any suspicion from her work or otherwise. Lucky me. Maybe if I didn't have a family member in every aspect of authority this town has, I wouldn't have to keep a secret like this. Maybe it would just slip out and everything would be okay; but I doubt it. If my mum and brother were locked up, Annie and I would be separated. I would spend the rest of my life blaming myself for her pain. I guess that's why I put myself through this. Because without her, I would be nothing.
 
Right now, I'm sitting in my room reading Annie a book about some dumb wombat being made into soup.
 
"Again! Again!"
 
I exhale deeply and roll my eyes as Annie tries to convince me to read the story for what feels like the hundredth time in a row.
 
"But we've already read it sooo much."
 
"Please, please, please, please, plea-ease."
 
She looks at me and pulls the cutest face she can. There's no way I can win this argument and she knows it.
 
"Fine." I groan.
 
A huge grin spreads across Annie's face.
 
"Yay!"
 
Two hours and another twenty stories later, Annie has finally fallen asleep. I tip-toe quietly out of the room and towards the kitchen. I am startled to find my mother sitting on the bench. It's eleven o'clock at night; normally she'd be out by now. I slow down my pace in order to give myself time to take in what I'm seeing. She's got on a short black, lacy dress with huge heels. Her fake red hair is in a fancy up-do and her purse sits beside her. Everything seems normal except for one thing: she's crying. My mother, the most careless, irresponsible, unemotional person in the world is crying.
 
"Ma?"
 
She spins around and almost falls off the bench in the process.
 
"Cate! What are you doing up?"
 
"I w-was just getting a drink. Are you going out tonight?"
 
"Does it matter?!"
 
She hops off the bench and starts towards me.
 
"No, I was just asking a question. I-I didn't mean anything by it. I swear!"
 
Her expression has turned her from totally vulnerable to the abusive and destructive person I know all too well.
 
"Why can't you just mind your own business?"
 
I can smell the vodka on her breath as she edges closer and closer.
 
"I-I…"
 
Nothing I say or do can get me out of this. An evil grin flashes across her face for a split second before I feel an agonising thump on the side of my head and I'm staring at the floor.
 
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I can feel strands of hair being yanked from their follicles as my mother carelessly lifts me of the floor. When I regain my balance I turn my head so that I am looking directly into her eyes. They're still rimmed with red from her teary episode earlier and I find myself feeling almost sorry for her. I haven't the slightest idea why she was crying, but I do know that whatever it was must have been bad. My mum never cries, she didn’t even cry at my dad's funeral.
 
"Mum, please. Don’t do this," I beg.
 
"Why not?"
 
Her arm raises, ready to take another swing, when she suddenly stops. I can see something in her expression and I can't quite put my finger on what it is. Regret? Realisation? Sorrow?
 
"Cate, I...I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to hurt you...I just…"
 
I can tell she has no idea how to apologise and I'm frozen from the surprise that she is even trying to.
 
"Mum-"
 

Cutting me off, she pulls me into a big bear hug. I hesitantly wrap my arms around her waist, scared that I may be falling into some kind of trap. I mean, my mother is ruthless, conniving and evil. As if she could ever really feel remorse over something.