"How are you feeling, honey?"

My mom's voice jarred me from my thoughts and my early morning haze.

I looked up from the spot on the table I was boring my eyes into and met my mother's eyes. She looked as tired as I felt and then I remembered she always looked that way. She was still in the uniform she wears when she cleans motel rooms.

"I'm fine."

My response was automatic, the words I'd been saying to myself a lot in the past week.

She gave me that look again, that she didn't believe me but she didn't say anything at first. She sipped her coffee and then looked me over again in that motherly way where she's searching for something physically wrong. She noticed the new bruise on my face but said nothing.

After the silence became to loud, she commented, "You're up early."

I nodded. I'd been waking up early because I hardly slept but there was no need to tell her it was because of nightmares. "Couldn't sleep. It was too cold in my room."

"Yeah, I haven't had the chance to call a repair man out here to fix the heating."

"It's fine," I lied, tugging my sweater closer around me subtly.

She spoke again and I realized this was going to be one of those rare mornings where she wanted us to talk and have conversation no matter how meaningless it was. "It's going to be winter soon which means it's going to be pretty hard to fight the cold without a heater."

"We'll figure something out," I said simply, using one of her common answers.

"Speaking of fighting," she started, a small smile spreading on her face, "I've been meaning to ask you, how're the self defense classes?"

I felt my dreary, tired, spirits fade and brighten a little at the mention of the self defense classes. "They're good. I feel...better when I'm there," I said giving her the most honest answer I have in days.

She looked relieved. "That's good. I knew it'd be good for you."

"I-I need running shoes though," I reluctantly told her knowing we didn't have money.

"You must be serious about this class," she noted, her smile widening.

I nodded.

Her smile faltered when she realized she'd have to say no to the sneakers. "I'll...try and figure something out but things are pretty tight-"

"It's okay mom," I interrupted. "I can use my old shoes I just wanted to tell you. The class is good though," I said again.

"I'm glad."

Her small smile appear again for a moment before I caught her looking at my bruised face again. She glanced away when I caught her eye and set her coffee mug down.

"Want some hot chocolate, like I use to make you when you were little?" she asked amusedly, forcing a smile as she stood up to make it without me responding.

I listened to her search for a cup, fill it with water and wait for the microwave to go off before she set the cup in front of me and took her place across from me again. She watched me sip at the steaming mug before speaking, looking down at the table as I had been before.

"I know this year has been pretty hard for you..." she began.

"Mom, we're not going to talk about...I don't want to talk about this."

She looked up then, reaching for my hand. "You did the right thing by going to the police. I'm sure someday the truth will come out but for now we just have to get through the hard times."

I couldn't help asking. I didn't want to talk about it but I had to ask. "Do you really think things will get better?"

Because honestly, everything felt like it was getting worse.

My mother's face reflected how I was feeling.

She didn't respond for a while before saying, "I hope sure hope so, love."

She looked at the bruise on my cheek again and reached to stroke my cheek. "Did this happen at school?"

I pulled away, my new automatic response to any touch was to flinch.

"I'm fine."

She looked me over again before nodding. She finished her coffee and then set it down, standing up. "I'll be working all day and probably all night. Are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

Being completely alone in the house was something I use to look forward to. Now I was generally afraid at the thought of it being just me. My mom couldn't take time off from work though. Besides the fact that we needed the money, I knew that her time at work in the city was her time to herself, to not really have to worry about anything.

"I'll be fine," I nodded.

She ran a hand through her mass of dark orange curls, contemplating if I'd really be okay. Before a few weeks ago, she wouldn't have given me a second thought about being alone.

"Okay. I'll leave the phone number to where I'm working. Don't stay out late thought. Be home before dark. Promise?"

I nodded.

Staying out late at night wasn't exactly at the top of my to-do list.

"I promise."