Chapter Two
*18 years later*
Katelyn trudged up the stairs to her apartment, weary from work in a waitress's uniform. She'd been too tired to change and the only that kept her going was the thought of home. When she reached her floor, she paused.
"You come up with 500 dollars or you're out! Ya hear me?!" The landlord of the building yelled at a tenant down the hall.
"Yeah, I hear ya! Now get out!" The woman yelled back, slamming the door on him.
Growling in response, the landlord turned and stalked down the hall.
Katelyn shook her head. Home sweet home, she thought cynically.
Walking over to her door, she paused and unlocked the six locks on her door. Stepping inside, she looked around for her mother. No doubt sitting on the couch passed out, she thought. Either that or screwing her latest deadbeat boyfriend.
"Mother?" she called. She never called her mother "Mom". Too informal for a mother who was never there. "Mother" suited her fine for it kept Katelyn's distance.
No response.
Katelyn glanced around the living room, disgusted. Her mother hadn't cleaned it up like she was supposed to. The living room was strewn with empty liquor bottles or cigarette butts. The couch had a dirty blanket thrown over it and a pillow. The coffeetable was covered with magazines and a remote to the tv was on it. The tv was off though, which Katelyn considered unusual. Mother always liked to keep the tv on to the soap channel.
Tossing her purse on the kitchen counter, Katelyn crossed the drab living room to the hall. Knocking one of the doors that led to her mother's bedroom, Katelyn called out once again. "Mother, are you in there?"
Hearing no response, Katelyn figured it was safe to walk in. Pushing the door open, she walked in. On the bed was a sleeping, thin, dark-haired woman who you could tell used to be pretty until life had thrown everything it had on her. Now she looked unkempt with her hair unwashed, dark makeup smeared on her slightly wrinkled face, and a empty bottle of liquor clutched in her hand.
Katelyn's familiar anger began to fill her. "Mother!"
"Ahhh!" The woman sat up suddenly, clutching her head. "God, Katelyn! Don't yell at me like that!"
"Mother," Katelyn began, her voice low and angry. "What are you doing sleeping? You were supposed to clean up the house. Now, why didn't you?"
"Oh," the woman said tiredly. "I forgot."
"You forgot."
Katelyn's mother raised her eyes timidly up to her daughter's face. "I'm sorry."
"I see," Katelyn said silkily.
"Oh, Katelyn please. I really did forget!"
"I'm sure you did." Katelyn turned, strode back into the hall, and went into her own bedroom.
Slamming the door behind her, Katelyn began tearing off her clothes and jumped into the shower. How could she, she fumed. All I ask her to do is clean the house and she doesn't do it. Feeling the hot water hit her skin, Katelyn relaxed. Of course. I shouldn't have asked her to do it. She'll never do anything, she thought with sadness.
Sighing once more, Katelyn turned off the tap and stepped out. Wrapping a towel around her, she combed her dark hair and slipped on pajamas.
A timid knock came at the door. "Katelyn?" her mother's voice called. "I really am sorry."
Exhausted, Katelyn rubbed her face. "Whatever, Mother. Just go to bed."
Silence reigned for a few seconds then footsteps left the room. Katelyn listened until she was really gone and opened the door. Crawling in her bed, Katelyn welcomed the feel of her soft mattress and promptly fell asleep.
Her dreams that night were filled with a bald man in a wheelchair, smiling at her with kindness. And power. It was also filled with a lot of power. Even in her dream state, Katelyn realized that the power was her own.
*18 years later*
Katelyn trudged up the stairs to her apartment, weary from work in a waitress's uniform. She'd been too tired to change and the only that kept her going was the thought of home. When she reached her floor, she paused.
"You come up with 500 dollars or you're out! Ya hear me?!" The landlord of the building yelled at a tenant down the hall.
"Yeah, I hear ya! Now get out!" The woman yelled back, slamming the door on him.
Growling in response, the landlord turned and stalked down the hall.
Katelyn shook her head. Home sweet home, she thought cynically.
Walking over to her door, she paused and unlocked the six locks on her door. Stepping inside, she looked around for her mother. No doubt sitting on the couch passed out, she thought. Either that or screwing her latest deadbeat boyfriend.
"Mother?" she called. She never called her mother "Mom". Too informal for a mother who was never there. "Mother" suited her fine for it kept Katelyn's distance.
No response.
Katelyn glanced around the living room, disgusted. Her mother hadn't cleaned it up like she was supposed to. The living room was strewn with empty liquor bottles or cigarette butts. The couch had a dirty blanket thrown over it and a pillow. The coffeetable was covered with magazines and a remote to the tv was on it. The tv was off though, which Katelyn considered unusual. Mother always liked to keep the tv on to the soap channel.
Tossing her purse on the kitchen counter, Katelyn crossed the drab living room to the hall. Knocking one of the doors that led to her mother's bedroom, Katelyn called out once again. "Mother, are you in there?"
Hearing no response, Katelyn figured it was safe to walk in. Pushing the door open, she walked in. On the bed was a sleeping, thin, dark-haired woman who you could tell used to be pretty until life had thrown everything it had on her. Now she looked unkempt with her hair unwashed, dark makeup smeared on her slightly wrinkled face, and a empty bottle of liquor clutched in her hand.
Katelyn's familiar anger began to fill her. "Mother!"
"Ahhh!" The woman sat up suddenly, clutching her head. "God, Katelyn! Don't yell at me like that!"
"Mother," Katelyn began, her voice low and angry. "What are you doing sleeping? You were supposed to clean up the house. Now, why didn't you?"
"Oh," the woman said tiredly. "I forgot."
"You forgot."
Katelyn's mother raised her eyes timidly up to her daughter's face. "I'm sorry."
"I see," Katelyn said silkily.
"Oh, Katelyn please. I really did forget!"
"I'm sure you did." Katelyn turned, strode back into the hall, and went into her own bedroom.
Slamming the door behind her, Katelyn began tearing off her clothes and jumped into the shower. How could she, she fumed. All I ask her to do is clean the house and she doesn't do it. Feeling the hot water hit her skin, Katelyn relaxed. Of course. I shouldn't have asked her to do it. She'll never do anything, she thought with sadness.
Sighing once more, Katelyn turned off the tap and stepped out. Wrapping a towel around her, she combed her dark hair and slipped on pajamas.
A timid knock came at the door. "Katelyn?" her mother's voice called. "I really am sorry."
Exhausted, Katelyn rubbed her face. "Whatever, Mother. Just go to bed."
Silence reigned for a few seconds then footsteps left the room. Katelyn listened until she was really gone and opened the door. Crawling in her bed, Katelyn welcomed the feel of her soft mattress and promptly fell asleep.
Her dreams that night were filled with a bald man in a wheelchair, smiling at her with kindness. And power. It was also filled with a lot of power. Even in her dream state, Katelyn realized that the power was her own.