Sincerely][Layouts
I decided to start a new series. Why?
Because the other ones were not real.
So, I wrote this one.
Chelsea looked at the pieces of glass upon the floor. Each one layed in a different way than the other. Each one reflected her. Her stunning black hair, the pale skin, her light pink lips and sad blue eyes, and the smallest glass, showed the smallest piece of her lower arm. It was criss-crossed with red and white scars. Some old, some new, but all came with painful memories.
Tears stung her eyes as she hesitantly looked up at the broken mirror which was resting upon the wall of her room. The entire upper-half as well as middle was gone. Chelsea could definitely throw one hell of a good punch. She smirked, satisfied with the damage she had done, as she walked over to her twin sized bed and sat down.
Chelsea began flipping through the pages of The Christopher Killer when she heard muffled arguing down below.
"How many times do I have to say this, Patrick?" her mother screamed into the phone.
Another family dinner I presume? Maybe she can throw some meth over my way while she's at it, Chelsea thought bitterely.
She could still remember what happend last night.
She was sitting in her room on the floor that was, at the time, unoccupied with the scattered shards of mirror. Her mother was pounding at the door, begging from the outside for money. Chelsea opened the door only to see her mother. Her tangled black hair, bloodshot eyes, and she was giggling. All the characteristics of her being high.
"Chelsea, my sweet baby girl, can you lend you mommy some money for food?" her mother giggled as she said this.
Chelsea stood there motionless.
"Did you not hear me," her mother snapped,"I said give me money you ungrateful little whore."
As her mothers hand met her face, down she went sliding on the floor. Her mother stormed in. She ransacked all the drawers, she tore apart all of Chelsea's paintings hoping there was money behind the canvas.
"Mommy, please stop," Chelsea whimpered then instantly hating herself for being so weak.
Her mother shot her a glare. She walked over to Chelsea and kneeled down beside her.
"Then. Give. Me. The. Money," her mother said through gritted teeth.
Chelsea's entire body began to shake from fear, and shook her head.
She regretted it. Chelsea knew better than to deny her mother when she was in this state of mind.
Her mother smirked, and called out,"Patrick."
Chelsea forced herself not to remember anymore. With a sigh, she let her head fall onto the pillow.
"Damn it," she muttured. She seemed to have forgotten about the essay that was due tomorrow. She took and a piece of scrap paper and hastily began to write.
Dear Ms. Cigolle;
I was not able to write that essay as you requested not only because my mother who just so happens to also be a junkie. Yeah, sorry about that.
Sincerely,
Chelsea
But of course she wasn't actually going to give her teacher that note. She would just make up a life, like she had so many times before. Rate [Message] Pick
You couldn't hide the emptiness you let it show ..
Well, there ya go.
