Promise Me... (Sequel to don't leave me ever)

Chapter Three: No such thing as a fairytale.

Chapter Three: No such thing as a fairytale.

[Lauren’s POV]:

I slammed my bedroom door shut and cursed seeing it was such a mess. Even though I didn’t want to I could feel the hot tears running down my cheeks. I wanted to reverse time and kiss him ack. I felt like screaming in frustration, confused. I sat down on my bed, he said he loved me. I loved him to, yet I didn’t want to. Why was it so complicated? I wanted answers, why did my life turn out like this, why wasn’t it perfect? I heard the front door open, making me jump. I didn’t know who to suspect it to be. I wiped the tears away and walked down the stairs, as she looked around. I stared at the woman in front of me who was obviously my mother but I didn't understand why she had come back, why was she here.                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

"Aren't you going to give your mother a hug?" She asked me as I didn't move closer to her.                                                                  

"Why are you here?" I simply asked emotionless.

Suddenly the woman I remembered was back as she slapped me across the face as I questioned her. I held my cheek as she furiously hit it again as I glared at her. She pushed past me and walked into the kitchen where she poured herself a drink obviously not over her old habit. Even though she was my mother in sense she never had been around to look after me so I didn't see the point of looking up to her in any way or form... Well unless it was not to become when I was an adult. It's when my pain started, when she left me in that house with no protection from the monsters within. I was never going to forgive her for what she did, nor did she deserve it after what happened. I walked into the kitchen behind her seeing her pour another glass of cheap wine. I wasn't going to let it go, I've been through much more than a slap on the face, she was going to answer my questions.                                                                                                                                        

"Why are you back?" I asked again much more demanding this time.

Again she slapped me across the face lighting a cigarette in her other hand. I hated her. I didn't move only making her angrier. She stopped getting annoyed seeing me not moving.                                                                                                                   

"It is none of your fucking business!" She screamed pushing past me and into the living room again.                                 

“Yes it is, this is my fucking house now so get out!" I yelled at her picking her smoke out of her hand and putting it out in the ash tray.

Her eyes, they seemed to get colder stone like. I almost felt afraid at that moment, she looked so pissed off. No, I wasn't about to let her get away with walking all over me, I had enough. I was sick of it, sick of everything. Once again she slapped me but harder and this time something was different. I felt my face be cut open feeling a hot sticky feel of blood stream out of my cheek as she hit me multiple times. She dropped the item that was in her hand and it was the smallest looking pocket knife I'd ever seen. Where the hell did that come from? She threw the glass of wine at the couch and stormed outside carrying her luggage with her. I touched my cheek so slightly feeling the blood still oozing out of the cut, it was deep. I could hear the sound of it dripping onto the floor staining the already ruined carpet. I pulled my sleeve to cover my hand and placed it on the wound until I found a towel. It stung and the pain was increasing rapidly as I didn't do anything. I walked up the stairs and into my room I grabbed a towel off the door handle and replaced it with my sleeve. It also was now covered in blood which still wasn't stopping. The feeling of vomiting suddenly pulsed through my body as I felt myself getting weaker. As soon as that feeling started to grow I felt everything around me go black.