I skipped accross the stones that led to our house's front door, hopping on one foot then the other as I reached for the handle with my free hand. I opened the glass outer door first and wedged myself inside the two, jammed the keys I had withdrawn from my pocket in the lock, and was about to turn the knob when the door opened.
I very nearly tumbled inside, and the glass door swung back and smacked my bottom. With a surprised yelp, I looked up into the face of my mother and knew that whatever was coming would not be good. She almost gave a foreboding aura, if you believe in such things. I swallowed hard and clutched the grocery bags in my arms in case I came close to dropping them... again.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, hands on each hip and a slight curl to her upper lip. When angry, my attractive mother could actually be quite ugly. Her green eyes shone with distaste, and I could only guess it was another rough day for her. Our life was tough, but I never blamed her, but I did blame the alchohol.
"At the store," I explained quite meekly, "we ran out of milk." I gulped once more to mentally brace myself.
"Uh-huh," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the living room. "right, and who didn't fix this?" It wasn't saintly, I could tell you that much. Magazines were strewn all over the floor, and several crumb embellished plates were piled on the coffee table. Other disorders could be found around the rest of the room.
"Me." My voice was hollow in my ears, and I slunk back against the glass door as if I could melt through it and run. "But I had homework, and we needed to go shop--"
I was cut off my a sharp smack accross the face. I saw her hard eyes stare me down, like a lion stalking weak little prey, or maybe a slave owner. "None of it," she hissed through clenched teeth as a strand of blonde hair fell accross her cheek. Annoyed, she brushed it quickly behind her ear and stormed off into the kitchen. When she was out of sight, I heard her call, "Clean it now, Lia, or you know don't wanna know."
Without a word, I briskly obeyed and began arrainging the room, and later the house. I hummed to keep myself happy, or at least to help me believe I was okay, or that everything would be fine. But it wasn't mom's fault, and I knew it certainly wasn't mine.
In my opinion, it was fate, if you beleive in that sort of thing.
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