"Nina!" the familiar voice yelled up the stairs, full of anger and hate. 13 year old Nina Pickering lay on her bed, pulling her pillow over her face. She knew this routine. It was the same thing, day after day. Her father left for work, and her mother's true colours began to show.
"Nina!" the blonde teen groaned, rolling herself off the bed, trying to work out what her mother could possibly be angry at her for today. It had been this way as long as she could remember. Any little thing could trigger her mother's wrath, for years Nina had been hiding bruises from her father, her friends and her teachers. She'd started to hate the woman, hate her situation, but she doubted anyone would believe her story if she told them, so what could she do? To the world, Susan Pickering was a doting mother and wife, friendly and warm and well liked.
"Yes?" Nina reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes scanning over her mother. She was drunk already. Nina's eyes glanced at the clock, her father had only been gone half an hour. "Surprised it took her so long to shout me down.." Nina thought, before glancing at her mother once more.
It didn't take long for Susan's hand to meet the tender flesh of Nina's face, before her fingers gripped the roots of Nina's hair, her nails digging into the teenager's scalp. She began dragging her daughter towards the front door. Nina shuddered as her brain tried to block out the pain searing through her head, she whimpered softly, tears building in her eyes, but she'd decided a long time ago that she'd never cry in front of this woman. Never again.
But she hated when her mother touched her hair, had ever since she was 7, back when her mother had cut off most of Nina's hair, as punishment for her playing with scissors and accidentally cutting through the newspaper her mother had not yet read. Nina remembered watching her beloved long hair falling all over the floor, she remembered crying herself to sleep for so many nights, and she remembered how glad she had been that it was the beginning of the summer holidays. By the time she went back to school, her mother had taken her to the hairdressers, and had the mess put into some semblance of style.
"Look at that.." her mother hissed, pushing Nina's head in the direction of the doormat, her nails pushing further into her daughter's scalp.
"What?" the teen spat, before biting down on her lip.
"Mud.. Everywhere.." Nina's eyes glanced over the mat. There was hardly any. Another case of her mother making a mountain out of a molehill. Yet Nina internally cursed herself, hating herself for even a spec of mud that may have come from her shoes. Her internal hatred was cut short as her mother pushed her to the floor, hissing "Clean it!"
Nina reacted just in time to stop her face hitting the hard floor, taking a deep breath before standing to get the hoover.
"Where do you think you're going?" her mother asked, raising a hand as though she was about to strike Nina's face once more. Nina flinched, watching as her mother smirked, proud of herself for scaring her daughter.
"To get the hoover.." Nina muttered, her heart pounding against her chest
"Did I say HOOVER it up?" her mother's nails were suddenly on the back of her neck, pulling Nina's face towards her. "Pick it up. Every piece, or there'll be trouble.."
By the time Nina fell back into bed, she was exhausted and bruised. She buried her face in her pillow and cried silently. One day, she promised herself, she'd get out of this place.