Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Jade's POV
By the time the front door slammed open, announcing my drunken mother's return, I was halfway through writing a sequel to Clowns Don't Bounce. It was 3:00 now, and I wasn't tired, even without sleeping a wink. You see, I had tried to get to sleep, but something kept nagging me to stay awake.
I stood up, making my way from my room to the front hallway, which just happened to be on the other side of the house. As I passed through the pitch-black living room, I noticed an open window, so, naturally, I stopped to close it.
That's when something hit my head. My legs gave underneath me, and I fell forwards, knocking the TV off its stand. Shit. I thought. Somebody must have gotten in through the window. Or maybe they jimmied the front door. Mom is going to kill me… If this guy doesn't first. Silently, I crept through the room towards where I assumed the hallway was. I stopped halfway when I saw a dark, shadowy figure creep towards the TV. They must be checking to see if I'm unconscious. This is my chance! I picked up the nearest weapon, which happened to be a vase sitting on a side table. Charging forward, I brought the vase over my head and Crack!
The vase shattered on the looter's head, sending them sprawling to the ground. I could see a vague outline of them now and saw that it was a guy, but that was about it. He rolled over, and I leaped at him. He grunted and tried to throw me off of him, but I found a bit of the smashed vase and plunged it into his arm. He howled, and, just as I was about to plunge the glass into his arm again, the lights came up.
I could now see my attacker's face clearly. And it wasn't good. I looked up and saw who had turned on the lights. My not-so-drunk mother. And the man below me was, what a surprise, her date, Henry. And Mom looked pissed right now. Her face was bright red, which was a complete contrast to her black dress, but it was a perfect match to the lining of her coat. She looked like Cruella Devil right down to the messy hair. Of course, it was all one color, but it had been neat when she left the house. It was obvious she and Henry had had some "fun" before coming back to the house. I almost threw up.
"Jade!" she seethed.
"Mom." I was as nervous as a germaphobe who was about to be pushed into a pigsty.
"Get some clothes and get out. I don't care where you go, but I will not, I repeat not, have you attacking my date." I glared at her, but she returned the death stare. Breaking eye contact, I slowly got up and brushed myself off. There was blood all over the white wall-to-wall shag carpet, and quite a bit of it on my hands and clothes. Once back in my room, I packed the essentials in my gears of war bag; a few pairs of clothes; some toiletries; schoolbooks; my notebook and my pearbook. My mom appeared in the doorway.
"I'm taking Henry to the hospital. I want you out of here by the time I get back." It amazed me how cold her voice was. Her voice seemed lacked soul. She sounded meaner than a robot about to destroy the human race. I knew I could be cold, but this was my mother. The very woman who brought me into this world was now kicking me out of the house.
Sighing, I shut my eyes. This had to be the worst day ever. I stood up and glanced around my bedroom. There wasn't much I wanted to take with me. Perhaps some of the butterflies on the wall, but I could come back for them. I had a few treasures I wanted to keep though. Even so, I examined the butterflies mounted on the wall. One in particular caught my eye. It was rare, an Orchard Swallowtail. Its wings were yellow and blue, with black markings on the upper portion. I had caught this butterfly when I was 8; it was the beginning of my collection. Back then, Mom and Dad had still been together, and we were on a family vacation in Eastern Australia.
Suddenly, I was furious. I punched the glass containing the precious butterfly. It shattered around my fist, and blood spewed from the wounds. Shit. Carefully, I extracted the butterfly from the frame. I put it, and a few other treasures, in a wooden box with intricate carvings on the top, and I put the box in my bag. I laughed a cynical laugh. As a child, I had always marveled at how free butterflies were. And here they were cooped up in abox, just like me. But, I had broken this butterflies frame, and my metaphorical one.
Well, little butterfly. I thought. Looks like it's just you and me.
I stood up, and left my room, my house, and this life without looking back. I had made my decision. I would leave. Forever. Or, so I thought.
Well, that felt like it was short. But again, it felt right to end it there. And I know that I haven't updated in awhile, but people stopped responding to the story, and I got a little disheartened. But a few people recently added my story to their subscription list, and I promised myself I would finish this story, and so here's another chapter. So; please review this time? Pretty please? Oh, and Happy Mothers' Day!