Chapter 7 Not My Mother!

ELLA

Stupid twins. Stupid care. Stupid bruises. Stupid town. Stupid, stupid me.

The words kept ringing in my head as I made my way home.

Why did I have to bump into them? Why did they have to see the bruise on my forehead? Why did they even care?

The sun was starting to go down by the time I got home.

I’d planned to slip into the house and go to bed without meeting either Mom or Jack, but it seemed fate had other plans for me.

Right on the porch was Mom, drinking coffee or what I presumed was coffee out of a large chipped mug. She heard me approaching and turned, her eyes flashing haughtily.

"What's with that look on your face?" She snapped, turning to face me fully.

I stared at her, wondering what she was talking about.

Didn’t she see the large bruise on my forehead? The bruise she’d caused? Or was she going to turn a blind eye to it?

"I don't have any look on my face," I replied and headed to the front door, but before I could take a step inside, she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"I wasn't done talking to you." She snapped, her voice sparking irritation. "Wipe that damned look on your face!"

"I don't have any look.”

"So you’re calling me a liar. Is that what this is?” She scoffed. “And don’t tell me you’ve been walking around like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a child who hasn’t eaten for days. You think anyone would pity you if you put on that look?”

I stared at her, my jaw slack in shock. Seriously?!

“Or are you trying to seduce some creeps? Tell me, how many men did you win over with that look, huh?!” She continued, hissing loudly. “Walking around pouting like a baby and seducing men. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?!"

"Ashamed of myself?!" I burst out, her words like a cold dagger straight to my heart. "Mom! Can't you see my face? Can’t you see the bruises on my forehead?”

She pulled back, her hand flying to her chest in shock. "I saw them. What should I do? Tell you sorry? Not shout at you? Oh, Ella, it seems you've grown some wings, huh?"

"I can't believe you right now. I just can’t!” I half yelled and blinked, my eyes burning with fresh new tears.

I could feel all my anger and frustrations bubbling, threatening to burst out of me at this point. And my mother would be the unfortunate victim.

But I didn't care. I'd had enough of this rubbish.

"Can't you see that I'm in pain?!" I cried out, beating my chest with my fist. “Look at my face! Look at it and tell me, do I look like your daughter or a seductress like you claim?”

Her eyes narrowed in disdain. "Oh, quit being so dramatic. We both know you injured yourself to garner pity from whoever would spare you a second glance."

"Mom!" A tear breeched my lash line.

I felt like clawing my eyes out with my bare hands, so I wouldn’t be able to see her.

Burst out my eardrums so I wouldn’t have to listen to her aggravating words.

Grab my hair and pull at it so she could see how frustrated I was with her.

I wanted to scream, cry, punch, do something, anything to rid myself of this feeling.

"You don't even care about me!" I half yelled again. “You can't even notice that I’m hurting. You keep treating me like trash! I doubt you are even my birth mother?”

There, I said it. The final insult. The last straw.

My mother gasped, a bitter laugh leaving her lips. She looked around as if expecting some spectator.

“This child thinks she's so big now, huh?" She hissed, looking around again. “Well, let’s see who’s bigger.”

The next thing I heard was the coffee mug crashing as she let it fall from her hands.

I jumped back at the sound, my eyes going wide. “Mom?"

"Mom? I thought you said I wasn’t your mother.” She hissed, her face contorting in anger. “You just wait right here and see. I’ll show you what women do to kids they didn’t give birth to.” She spat and turned around, bolting inside the house.

"Mom!" I called out, lips shaking as I entered the house.

I ran after her, only stopping when she zoomed up the stairs and straight to my room.

"Mom! What are you doing?!"

"You're leaving my house today!" She screamed at me.

Seconds later she came out of my room with a suitcase I recognized very well. She hurled it down the stairs, and it spilled open, my clothes pouring out.

"Take your things and get out of my house! Mom bellowed from the top of the stairs, her small frame vibrating angrily. “You're not to return here ever again.”

"Seriously?” I scoffed. "I tell you how hurt I am about your wicked behavior, and you're kicking me out?!"

"You're a disrespectful brat, Ella! Get out of my house! If I ever see you again, I swear to the heavens I will—“

"Hey, hey.“ A voice drawled from the doorway. “What is going on here?"

I swallowed a lump and rolled my eyes when I saw him.

Great. Now, things would just get worse since Almighty Jack was home.

"Honey, can you imagine?!” Mom was flying down the stairs and rushing to her husband’s side. A fake tear ran down her face as she whined. “She talked back at me. She's raising her voice at me. And to top it all, she insulted me by saying I wasn’t her real mother.”

Jack muttered some words I didn’t hear in her ear; then he pulled her close for a brief hug.

When he finally looked at me, my stomach churned at his leery eyes roaming over me.

Even with my mother by his side, he still didn’t stop staring at me inappropriately.

How could Mom not see this? How could she see not?!

"Ella, dear, don’t mind your mom,” he said with a crooked smile, flashing teeth that were worn out and discolored from years of smoking and drinking.

I swear I could smell the alcohol oozing off him from where I stood.

"She's not going to that room!” Mom maintained her stand. “She leaving my house tonight!"

"It's okay," Jack said to her, “Don’t forget she’s just a teen, and they can get irrational for a bit.” He flashed another leery look at me, and my skin crawled. “Ella, go and rest. I will talk to your mother.”

I scowled, but I didn’t say anything. I just obeyed his pathetic order.

I was so tired, and I didn’t want to argue anymore. The whole day was starting to weigh down on my shoulders, and my body hurt badly.

Honestly, did I think I could change anything by talking to my mom? I was such a fool.

Scoffing, I grabbed my suitcase, stuffed all the clothes into it, and stormed up the stairs.

*

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Slowly, I became aware of a rhythmic tapping sound.

At first, I thought the sound was coming from my dreams, but the more it persisted, the more I knew it wasn’t just a fragment of my dreams. And I couldn't ignore it.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. The small clock on my nightstand read 4:50 am.

What the hell? I mused, stretching tiredly and listening for the sound again.

This time, though, I heard nothing.

Hissing, I decided to go back to sleep when the sound started again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Oh, come on." I groaned under my breath and threw the covers off my body.

The sound came from my window, so I stealthily walked over to it. A small pebble hit the glass, startling me. I grabbed the window sill and pulled it up.

Just as I opened the window, someone sprang into my room, a strong hand clamping down over my mouth.

"Don't scream." The person whispered, their voice oddly familiar, face hidden by a dark hoodie.

My eyes widened with shock as I watched another person enter from the open window.

The person opened his hoodie this time, and I saw him.

Tristan?!

Nathan was behind me, hands still on my mouth.

My visitors were Tristan and Nathan.

What the fuck?!