hi guys! chapter one of my new story! i know "it's too late" has not been updated in forever, i've got no good excuses for that. i hope to concentrate on this one first and may go back to that one. But thank you everyone, new and old readers!
enjoy!!!
CHAP 1
I awoke to the sound of loud banging coming from somewhere outside. Apparently my mother had moved on from pottery and had decided to pursue carpentry for this month's hobby. My mother, Renee, was notorious for changing her mind about things. One day she was a vegetarian; the next, all she ate was meat. It was annoying, not to mention costly as she spent most of her pay on buying new materials for whatever she was doing. I, on the other hand was in my junior year of college, which coupled with an after school job at the local deli, didn't leave me much time for socialising with other kids my age. I also had a babysitting job which meant I was always busy. You could say I had it hard. I, on the other hand found my busy schedule incredibly soothing. I know it sounds crazy but I had a good reason. My mother's never ending stream of no-good, lazy, filthy asshole boyfriends who spent most nights (and most of her pay) at our apartment. It wasn't a great arrangement; I had tried to talk my mother out of her desire to find a man, but either she couldn't see past their faults, or she could and she didn't care. I hoped it was the first one. But I knew it was the latter. I guess she just couldn't bear being alone. I just wished she'd think about me first. Especially because of what would happen because of it.
"Bella!" my mother called from the bathroom. It was a few nights later and I was sitting on the floor, leaning on the couch in my pyjamas, watching one of those boring and ultra predictable crime shows. It was nearly eight o'clock on a Saturday night and I was staying in. Well that's what my mother thought anyway. If she knew what I was really up to she'd lose it. My friend, Kat was coming over and we were going to watch movies, eat junk, and best of all, get high, one of our favourite things to do. And my mother knew nothing about it. She didn't really care what I did anyway. It may be mean to speak of my mother like that but that's what she was like. She was incredibly flighty and dare I say it, a little bit mentally challenged. We didn't talk much either. I guess because I still blamed her for leaving my father, Charlie a few years back. She tells me it was because she didn't love him anymore. Basically she traded my kind, caring dad who would do anything for us for a bunch of dirt bags. I don't get it.
"Bella!" my mother called again, louder this time.
"What?" I yelled back, still focused on the television screen.
"Can you come here? I need you to do something for me."
I sighed and walked into the bathroom. "A please would have been nice," I grumbled.
"What do you think?" she asked me, completely ignoring what I just said and twirling around in front of me. She was getting ready for a date with yet another one of her idiots conquests. Dave, I think this one was called. I honestly have no idea where she finds these people. It blows my mind sometimes.
I critically inspected her outfit. A long, black dress that softly draped over her hips and flowed down her long legs, hair curled up, black high heels, and just a touch of makeup. I had to admit, my mother looked good. Good for her age at least.
"It looks good," I told her, willing her date to hurry up. I wanted out.
"Just good?"
"You look really great, Mom. Really," I told her, rolling my eyes. I wanted to get back to my show. We went through this routine about three times a week and we always said the same thing.
She eyed me through the mirror. Here it comes, I thought.
"Bella, honey, you really should cut your hair. Don't you think it's getting a little long?"
I fingered a lock of my hair. Chocolate brown, wavy and extremely thick, I loved my hair. And I did not in any way want a haircut. True it was halfway down my back but it was the way I liked it.
I sighed. "No Mom, I like it like this. Remember I've told you like, a thousand times and you never listen." She really didn't. It pissed me off. In fact, around her, I was pissed off most of the time.
She looked at me for a bit longer and opened her mouth to say something but I guess the expression on my face stopped her.
"Alright Bella," she said softly. "I just forget you're not a little girl anymore. You're seventeen."
The doorbell rang. She hesitated but then, surprising me, she leant forward and placed a kiss on my forehead.
"Love you, Bella. I'll be home later." And then she was out the door.
Weird. My mother never did stuff like that. I couldn't remember the last time she kissed me. But I pushed it out of my mind and concentrated on me. I was going to ring Kat and tell her to come on over. We were going to have fun tonight.
A few hours later and Kat and I were floating on a cloud of bliss. That is, we had smoked as much pot as we could handle and were now watching some romance movie. Well, it was on in the background. So was the CD player which was playing Crowded House (one of my mother's favourite bands). An empty bottle of vodka lay on the ground. We were lying on the couch giggling hysterically and trying to wrestle each other onto the ground. Naturally I was winning. I may not look that strong, but I am. She was clearly out of it and couldn't stop laughing which meant I could give her one push and she'd be face down the in plate of nachos I'd made earlier. We were so busy laughing I didn't hear the phone until the last minute. I reached out to pick it up.
"Bella? Bella?" It was my mother. I guess she sounded worried but I couldn't tell. Doped up remember?
"Hey Mom," I tried not to slur my words. "How's the date?" I giggled and bit my lip. Keep it together, Bella.
"Bella, honey, I need you to come pick me up. I'm on Albert Street outside the bank."
"What happened? You get stood up?" I asked her, still trying to hold back the giggles. Kat reached out and grabbed the phone.
"Hey Mrs. Charlie Swan. What's new with you, honey-poo?" Obviously she had drunk more then her fair share of vodka. I grabbed the phone back and tried to focus. I wasn't going to let her ruin my night. Kat and I were just getting started.
"No can do, mother dearest. Get someone else. I'm sick of running around after you." And I pressed END. I hung up.
When I think about how I could have hung up on my mother when she needed me, I can't even think straight. I feel like throwing up. Or tearing out my hair. Or grabbing a razor and-
But I don't.
The police came about six in the morning. Kat and I were sprawled on the floor, the TV and music still blaring. I heard a knock at the door and stumbled to the door, thinking my mother had forgotten her key. It wouldn't have been the first time. They told me how she had been found on the road. Some drunk driver had run her over as she was crossing the street to call a cab. And they'd left her there. I didn't cry. I wouldn't let myself. Kat cried her little eyes out and left saying sorry after sorry after sorry. The police took me to the morgue where I identified her and a nice woman helped me organise her affairs. The funeral was a few days later. Only three people turned up. The priest, me, and my father. Charlie had come to take me back with him. I was going back to Forks, Washington to live with my father. I hadn't been back for years. It was what I'd always wanted. Only there was one thing missing. My mother.