Emily frowned at her phone as her stomach let out a low growl, and almost instinctively, she quelled the voice whispering in the back of her mind. The beast. It was quiet, almost inaudible, but she knew what it was saying- what it desired most, though she was terrified of giving in to its demands.
Emily slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbed a black jacket from her bed, and slipped it on with a sigh. It hung loosely on her body, the tattered and ripped fabric almost drowning her as she grabbed a black beanie and pulled it onto her head, matting her brown hair flat against her scalp as it flowed down her back.
Emily glanced at the large mirror in the corner of her room, her shoulders slumping dejectedly at her reflection. Another sigh escaped her lips. Emily turned quickly away from the boyish reflection staring back at her. Emily grabbed her wallet from her bedside table and promptly picked her way through piles of clothes towards the closed door.
Opening the door, Emily glanced up the long flight of stairs towards the landing above before stepping lightly onto the first step. She moved almost noiselessly, her thin body gliding quickly up the stairs as she listened for any sounds from the floor ahead.
Emily stopped on the second to last step, straining her ears for any sound of movement. Silence. Emily flexed her fingers and darted towards the front door visible in front of her.
"Emily! Where do you think you're going, young lady?"
Emily's feet stopped dead as her breath caught in her breath. "Fuck," the word was inaudible, a mouthed curse as Emily turned towards the kitchen. Her mother was standing in the archway between the living room and kitchen. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips, and her forehead wrinkled. Her mother's plump body and round features looked inviting and welcoming save for the scowl plastered on her face.
"You weren't thinking of going to meet up with that- that delinquent again, were you?"
Emily felt her face flush and her heart sink. Her hands instinctively balled into fists at her side as she struggled to look her mother in the eyes. Finally, her mouth opened to speak, but her mother's continued before she could form any words.
"Honestly, Emily, I can't believe you'd even consider going out with someone like him." Emily's mother stepped forwards, the floorboards creaking beneath her thick frame. She glared at the teenage girl before her, "Besides, you know Sundays are supposed to be reserved for spending time with the family."
Emily swelled with anger and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out as her mother seemed to loom over her, glaring down her nose at Emily's petite form. Her mother stepped closer, the floorboards creaking again under her, and she seemed to completely block the light coming from the kitchen.
"This is why you're never going to amount to anything! Always whiling away your time with a nobody like him. A-A mechanic! Is that what you want? To spend your life with a dirty mechanic who couldn't even finish high school? Probably couldn't even afford to support you, let alone any children. I'm sure he'll end up homeless before too long if he hasn't already. I bet he's into drugs, too. Isn't he?"
Her mother didn't even wait for an answer before resuming her tirade, "Is that why you're so thin? Are you doing drugs too? Oh, the shame of a parent having to watch their daughter waste away to nothing but skin and bones. That's probably why you can't find anyone respectable to go on a date with. I mean, who'd want to date a girl who looks like a male skeleton? Honestly, what a waste."
Emily took a step back, her eyes falling to the floor as her mother took another step towards her. Emily wanted to speak- to tell her mother how wrong she was, but her jaw refused to move. Her mother's glare was still fixed on her, and she was forced to take another step backward to keep from being plowed over by her mother. The back of her legs bumped into the sofa, and Emily caught herself before tumbling backward over it.
"Useless thing," her mother spat, "At least Sam has some backbone, even if she does look like she swallowed a whale. Still, at least she looks like a woman! Honestly, I'd rather you have ended up as fat as her rather than the unappealing twig you are now. At least then I'd have some reason to tell people why you're such a layabout. 'Oh, Emily is just too fat to do anything. That's what I'd like to say, then maybe people wouldn't wonder why I can't get you to even try to do something with your life."
Emily's fists balled tightly at her side as her mother stared daggers at her, stopping her breath in her throat. The urge to yell back at her mother, to tell her how wrong she was, to somehow defend what she had with Micheal crushed down on her, and she felt her hands tremble. Emily forced her breathing to even out, and her fists slowly loosened from their tight fists, the urge to speak dying as it passed.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Her mother asked, her voice breaking the airy pause.
"N-nothing," Emily managed to croak, her throat closing as her head seemed to spin and her fingers tingle.
"Hmph, in that case, you can help me with dinner. After all, we are supposed to be spending time as a family today."
Emily watched her mother turn and begin striding back towards the kitchen. She wanted to run, to hide, to be anywhere but there. But, instead, her mother stopped in the archway and turned towards Emily, the scowl still plastered on her face. Emily cringed under her menacing gaze but didn't move.
Emily felt her heart race. There it was, sliding back into her mind. The beast. Eager to take advantage of any weakness. The beast pushed and prodded at Emily from the back of her mind- an opportunistic scavenger preying on Emily's misery, begging for any crumb Emily would give it.
Emily began to feel lightheaded as the beast's voice continued to whisper to her from the back of her head. It promised her relief, freedom, and an end to her suffering if only she'd give in to its demands. If only Emily would feed it. Emily tried to fight it off, tried to tell herself that she could push it away, that she didn't have to give in. It was a lie.
The beast was weak- a scrawny starved thing that inhabited the darkest parts of her mind. The remnants of her past addiction. Yet it survived on her weakness- pouncing whenever she was stressed, sad, or angry. It was the few times she'd given in that sustained it- that had kept it from vanishing altogether. Years of giving in at her lowest times had been her weakness, her downfall, her damnation.
Emily could feel its warmth growing inside of her- that telltale sign that she was in jeopardy of giving in to the beast's sobs and its promises. She could practically see it in her mind, an emancipated, ratted wolf ravenous for any scrap of food, any indication of weakness to exploit. It watched her, waiting, wishing for her to crack.
Emily took several steadying breaths and fought back against the beast. It fought back, but Emily could hear its cries of desperation subside while she steeled her resolve and stood her ground. Emily waited as the seconds ticked by, and the beast seemed to quiet- falling into an uneasy silence at the back of her mind. As the quiet, empty seconds ticked by, Emily felt the tension slowly creep out of her body.
However, Emily's mother turned and began walking towards her once more. Emily felt her heart start to thump in her chest as her stomach clenched and cramped. Her hands were wringing against the arms of the chair, the beast beginning to take hold.
"Well, what do we have here? Why isn't Emily helping me? I hardly think it's fair that she gets to waste away the entire day while I have to manage the food and the cleaning." Her mother's voice was cold and quiet, yet powerful as a hurricane.
Emily could feel the beast in the back of her mind, feasting on the foul energy her mother had spewed in her direction. It harassed her, it prodded her, it begged for her to give in. Emily struggled to hold the beast back, trying to ignore it as it clawed at her mind and pulled against her resolve.
Emily gritted her teeth and struggled to move, to say anything. Her eyes darted towards the front door. That was her portal to freedom, at least for a time. Eventually, she'd have to return home and face her mother's wrath. The stairs down to her left were her escape, the passage to her sanctuary where at least she could hide from her mother's tirade and not anger her further. Yet, Emily knew the only way to come out of this unscathed was to give in to her mother's demands and help in the kitchen.  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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