Her Only Hero

Chapter 2

The sun sets. People settle into their homes. Still, we laugh and run. Play and shout. Find ways to keep ourselves entertained, and try out a few stupid ideas.

One game only involved an aim to knock each other off our feet, and another where we would throw several pinecones up into the darkness and try not to be hit by them as they fell back to the earth.

Tired, sweaty and sore, we walk back to our cars. In the carpark, I remember who I'm going home to, so I pull out the pack of cigarettes and place one of the two between my lips. Jonah spots me and asks for my last one, and I hand it over while internally annoyed at myself for not waiting for them to leave first. I hope I can steal more soon.

I pull out my phone as I shut my car door and gasp at the numbers that flash up on my blinding bright screen.

03:04

Below it, a notification reads '16 missed calls' from my mother. I roll my eyes and toss my phone onto the passenger seat, and start up my car in two attempts.

I drive the long way home and still pull into the driveway too soon for my liking. One look at the light on in the window, and I groan, taking my time getting out of the car.

Pausing for a second at the front door, I take a deep breath in, letting it out in a sigh, and push open the door.

"Where the hell have you been!"

"Why do you care?" I grumble, slamming the door shut.

"I've told you many times to be home by midnight!" She stands from the old lounge. "You're three hours late!"

"So?" I walk past her, towards the stairs, avoiding her death stare.

"So... I had plans tonight." She follows after me. Her white dress makes her skin look more orange than normal and forces her breasts to almost spill out over the top from how tight it is. I can't believe she thinks she looks good wearing that and is okay being seen in public wearing Barbie's outfit.

"Of course you did," I say under my breath.

"I needed you home to take care of Misty."

"I don't care."

She rushes ahead to stand in my way, but I move around her and keep walking. Grabbing my arm, she pulls me back, and anger boils inside of me.

"Don't touch me." I try to pull my arm away from her, but her grip tightens and she pulls me closer.

"You listen to me." She pulls me close. Droplets of spit hit my face. "When I say be home by midnight, you get home by midnight."

The red stilts she calls heels allows her to meet my eyeline and restricts me from towering over her. So, I lean in as close as I can to appear as threatening as possible. "You have no right to tell me what to do," I growl.

"Oh, yes I do." Her nails dig into my upper arm. "I am your mother."

"You're nothing like a mother."

"I have given you everything, the least you could do is act like you deserve it and do as I say."

"Given me everything?" I repeat, disbelief thick in my voice. "All you've done is make my life a living hell."

"Then, get out." She throws my arm back at me and points to the door. "If you're unhappy and you wanna make your own rules, then go find somewhere to live by yourself."

I want to walk out. I wish I could leave right now. Say, "Sure,"—no—"Happy to," and never see her again. She would watch me walk out, with nothing left to say. But I can't. I haven't saved up enough to survive on my own yet.