Chapter 2

I awoke on the sidewalk a mere ten feet from where I laid only a moment ago. I shot up, my head was spinning, and throbbed. I was angry at whoever helped me. I looked around, hoping to find them nearby, but I was along. I inspected my arms and legs for damages. I had a large lump on my head about the size of a golf ball, where I hit my head against the pavement. It was wrapped in gauze. I fished my phone from my pocket and opened it. The screen was cracked, probably from hitting the pavement.

It flashed bright numbers at me, which caused my spinning head to hurt even more. "6:49" flashed on the screen along with the ever scrolling date. I put them back into the pocket of my now torn jeans. I struggled to stand, my head was fuzzy and I was dizzy. The dog who lived at the house I was at barked at me. The high pitched "Yap!" of the little Terrier caused my head to hurt more than it did before.

"SHADDUP!" I shouted at the little dog. I guess I shouted a little loud, because the curtain to the front window peeled back and the silhouette of a women stood in the window, against the soft, yellow glow of a table lamp. I walked along the fence line, using it to sturdy myself. The little dog followed me all the way down the length of the fence before having to stop at the corner of the chain link fence. I trudged the rest of the way home.

. . . .

When I finally got home, I opened the screen door that lead into the kitchen. My mom stood over a frying pan, mixing various chopped vegitables and chicken.

"Hi," she said, not looking up from the stove. "Did you get your project finished?" I forgot I had told her I was going to a friend's house to work on a school project.

"Yeah," I muttered. I opened the fridge and pulled out the milk carton, opened it, and took a drink.

"What on earth happened to your head?" She startled me, I almost spilled milk down my shirt. I forgot about the gauze wrapped around my head. I had to think of an excuse quickly.

"I…Uhh, I bumped into her fridge and a can fell and hit me on the head." I lied. She walked over to me and touched my head by my temples, turning my head to examine the lump. She'd been drinking, the smell of alcohol assaulted my nostrils. I stepped back away from her. I put the milk back into the fridge. She turned back to the stove and started stirring again.

"How's Marissa?" She asked, stirring vigorously and turning the pan every so often.

"Fine," I said. I slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. She set her spoon down in the pan and came over to inspect my head more. She started unwrapping the bandages. She gaped at the lump on my head. I reached up and felt it, turns out it was more of a wound than anything. How hard did I hit the pavement?

"Oh Kaisia," she muttered, moving my hair to look at it. "Go get in the shower and clean up."

I did as I was told and trudged to the bathroom.