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by Lauren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · User Poll · Drama · #2094209
Maddie isn't your typical young girl.
Poll Question:
I'm Maddie. Not Madison, Maddie. Understand? I'm glad we're clear on that.
Only one person can call me Madison, and I guess you'll find out who sooner or later.
If I was to meet you for the first time, perhaps I'd say I was your average 15 year old girl; but I'd be lying to you. Many teenagers have problems of their own. We're all going through different things. Some are finding themselves, some are lost, some are realising their sexuality and some are being consumed by their own minds.
I fit in with the last category.
Let me fill you in.
I'm currently living with my mother. Things are dysfunctional. She's always been a big drinker. Scrap that, she's an alcoholic. Plain as day. A reckless, cruel alcoholic. Her behaviour is the most fractious I've ever witnessed. Aren't we supposed to respect those who have raised us? Not me haha. I'm your stereotypical teenager, but there are sides of me I am going to show you, the one no one else but those who are close to me have had the displeasure of seeing. I'm rude. I'm ruthless. I'm confrontational, but my own morals are something I've always stuck by and I most certainly aren't a bully. I'd die for what I believe in.
If you were shallow minded, you'd be judging me right now, and I understand why.
But you also have to understand why I am like this..

"Madison, sorry I'm late sweetie."
I turned my head to see a slim blonde woman, with stunning brown eyes. I noticed how petite she was, however, her voice was bitchy, like one of those patronising bullies you find in the school toilets.
"Firstly, it's Maddie." I exclaimed, gritting my teeth. "Good start, who are you?"
"Oh.. I'm sorry." A disheartened look impaled all over her face. "I'm Evie, your new social worker."
"Listen, thanks I guess, but I don't need your help. Me and mum are fine."
I could tell she didn't believe me, it was probably due to the bruises smothering my throat.
I found my mum doing drugs again last night. She'd come into my room and tried to strangle me because I told her I'd had enough.
The realisation suddenly came to me that if Evie went inside, she'd realise just how unsafe this environment is.
She was persistent, I saw right through her. She was the type to stick around until she found out every detail and attempted to correct the situation.
"hey." I proclaimed.. "should we go to the café to talk? I don't really think you'd like my house."
"I'm not going to judge you sweetie, It's getting rather dark, we should head inside. A storm is heading this way and I need to speak to your mum."
I turned my head towards her, a fire began burning in my stomach. I couldn't say anything.. I knew she wouldn't let it go.
She nodded at me, staring straight into my eyes. I could feel the knots in my stomach tightening.
She waited a couple of seconds, and then she began to go through my case file. I could see her eyes fill up, she did a good job holding them back. I stared back at her softly, maybe she was different. No other person had the same reaction. She might be the first person to actually understand the life I'm living.
I flinched as she raised her head abruptly, interrupting the awkward silence.
"I'm glad I've finally met you. I've heard a lot about you. I'm going to be coming to see you once a week for six months. I'm going to assess whether your relationship with your mother is improving but my judgement is down to you. But before we begin, I really need to speak to your mum first."
Bile started rising to my throat. I felt like I was about to throw up.
"You can't talk to her. She's uh..."
I stopped mid-sentence. Am I such a hideous person for not wanting to take her shit anymore? For not wanting to stay here anymore, overwhelmed in my own depression, feeling the same things over and over again. Am I wrong for not wanting to be beaten every time I forget something? Or not do something for her? Or not give her money for the vile things in which are killing her?
To look after her whilst she's been sick over the toilet because she's drinking herself to death?

"Honey, where is she?"
"She's inside.." I proclaimed. I'm used to hiding my feelings now.
We were currently sat outside, under my safe place. It began getting rather cold, the clouds were almost black. I knew the storm was going to be bad outside, the wind was howling like a lonely dog on a cold winters night. But the storm we were about to face inside, was going to be a lot worse.

A hell of a lot worse.
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