Scent of Desperation Pages 3-5

I walk through the halls once again as the day drones on, at least it's safer here. Predictable is the word... I always feared facing my mother after school everyday. She was the pitch black, evil, darkness in my already dark world.

I can't be myself here though, or anywhere for that matter. I don't even know who I am. On the outside my mother and I seem inseparable. The perfect mother and daughter relationship anyone would want to have... especially me.

In a closed door, my mother wasn't what she appeared to be. She fed me, yes. She put a roof above my head, yes. Although, she didn't provide me of new clothing, everyone believed her. She beat me...



Yes.

No one knew though. Because people are bleak. They are inconsiderate, robotic. Two- faced. And a lot more.

How could they know, though? It was up to me to keep the good, false image of a hardworking-mother-and-daughter-relationship alive. My mother is hardworking. She loves me...I know she does. Although...not like a daughter. She love me like children loves popscicles on hot summer days. I hate popscicles. It's winter year round in my world...as long as the door stays locked.

I heard the faint sound of shuffling feet and a ringing bell. Time to go home...

Hearing the buses roar to life as I made my way down the buses depressed me. This was the darkest part of the day. Knowing what I was going home to, knowing what I was going to face.

I shoved myself into the back. That way, no one would stare at me, no one would judge. As I seat myself, I gently open the newest book on my reading list: Pendragon: The Merchant of Death, scanning through the worn, neglected pages. Reading is my best friend, it helps me escape from my black hole into a sunny, cloudless, blue. Boy, did I love it there. I only wish I could stay.