On My Own (Chapter One)

         "Oh, you'll never be accepted, sweetie." She sneers. Her voice sounds more sarcastic as she spits out the word sweetie. "Girls who are pregnant in high-school are whores." Regina, my drunk bitch of a mother would throw these insults at me every morning. It wasn't always like this. There was a time where she would never touch alcohol. Three months ago, to be exact. That's when it happened...  My dad died of brain cancer. All our worlds crashing down. Mine especially, I lost him on my 16th birthday. Since the day he got diagnosed, she has never said one good thing to me. Not one. It's like she has been blaming me for his sickness, and now for his death.
         
         I don't have a job, and neither does she. She has been living off the money she got when he passed. She buys food for my twin brother, and alcohol for herself, as well. I have to return all the cans and bottles she finishes, so I can buy prenatal vitamins or anything the baby and I will need.
         
         She practically worships my brother, Liam. We have the same DNA! Why doesn't she love me? Oh, it's because he's perfect, and I am not. He's athletic, popular, and handsome like our father was. Regina was athletic when she was in high-school and college. So, from birth, I've been the child she never cares about. Liam never gets threats, or bullshit from her.  I've always been a "daddy's girl", as for my brother, he's a huge "mama's boy". Which doesn't bother me, except for the fact that I hate what my "mother" has become.
         
         I ignore it in front of her, as I slam my bathroom door and lock it. I wait til I hear the stumbling footsteps  heading towards the kitchen. I look in the mirror at my red, and blotchy face. The tears starting to fall.  I trace my fingers along the bruises on my cheeks. Fresh from last night. She never used to be like this . She'll get better once the baby comes, I tell myself. If I'm still alive by then.  This sentence echoes in my head. I shake my self out of it, and gently wipe the tears out of my eyes. Turning to my side, in my bra and underwear, I see all the scars that my clothes normally hide. I'm not proud of them. I could blame her, but there's no excuse for cutting. I haven't done it in a while, I try my hardest to not go down that path for baby's sake. Glancing at my body up and down, I smile slightly. Noticing  that my stomach is showing more, since I am about four months pregnant. I slide on my favorite dress, which is black with leopard print, and my leopard flip-flops. I turn the faucet on, and use cold water to wash my face. As I wipe of the excess water I stare at my reflection.
Why am I still here? Why didn't I let her kill me that last time? Why does she do this? I quickly answer the first two to myself. It's all for the baby, he is my whole life now. The reason I wake up, the reason  breathe, the only thing keeping me here.
         
         I grab my make-up bag, and sit down in front of my vanity. Grabbing my cellphone, I play the music that makes the baby kick. He squirms even more whenever I start singing, especially in chorus. I start my twenty minute make-up process by putting on foundation over my cuts, and bruises. It seems impossible that it could take anyone that long just for simple cover-up, but if anyone saw my face naturally they would know why. As I belt out my favorite song, I feel him dance around. This puts a huge smile on my face, until I hear a sudden loud knock on my door. It nearly startles me, so bad, that I almost fall off my stool.

         "Turn down that fucking music, Makailah! Carl is here! How many times do I have to tell you I don't want to hear your fucking high pitched music anymore!" She screams at me through the door, her words slurring. "How many have you had this morning, you inconsiderate bitch?" I mumble under my breath, as she stumbles away bumping into the wall a few times.
Returning to my reflection, I decide that I don't need to wear anymore make-up. I smile down at my belly, and rub it.
"You make mommy feel so pretty sometimes. Look at me,  I'm glowing even more this morning." I giggle as I realize he cannot look at me, nor reply.
         
         I hear the front door slam, and then her car peels out. "Booze run, woohoo!" I shout sarcastically. So loud that I hear Liam's door open and close. He knocks twice, and opens my door. He gives me a look full of sympathy, and wraps his arms around me, kissing my temple. Trying not to tear up again I manage to whisper, "It's fine. I'm used to it." Clearing my throat but my voice still weak, "Are you ready Liam? I would like to leave before the bitch gets back." He frowns, and nods.

         I grab my finished homework off my bed and shove it into my backpack. Sliding it on my back, grabbing my cellphone and keys, we leave my bedroom. Closing the door quietly and locking it behind us. As we enter the kitchen, Carl greets me with a soft smile and a wave. I run over and hug him. Liam and him pound fists behind my back. Carl has been a family friend since before daddy died. He looks after us, from time to time. When I found out I was pregnant him, and Daddy got so excited. Regina did too...until his death.

         "Carl, it's getting much worse." Liam says to Carl, as he lets me go. I walk over to the window, noticing that he wants to talk to Carl alone. I stare out at all the children getting ready for the school bus to arrive. One little girl hugs her mother and father, squeezing them tightly.They both take turns giving her a kiss on the cheek. I sigh softly, wishing that was me again. I'd give anything to have Daddy back. I look away, rubbing my belly, watching them all board the bus, as their parents wave goodbye.

          "It's not just emotionally, she has been beating  Kai. If she were to cry right now, I bet twenty pounds of cover up would wipe off along with the tears. I'm getting worried, as she gets further along in her pregnancy, and as mom drinks more, that she will hit too hard, causing the baby to die. Or Kai even." Liam lets out a long, painful sigh.