Page 52 of Unbalanced

She doesn’t say anything.

“Mom, what the hell? Answer me, or I’m not going.”

She turns on me so fast that I don’t even see her hand moving. The slap knocks me sideways. I hit the wall hard enough to bruise. My head is fuzzy. I touch my cheek, and I realize I’m bleeding.

Mom grabs my arm and gets right in my face. She has sweat on her brow, and her eyes are red from drinking.

“You listen to me, you ungrateful little bitch. You’ll do what I say, or you’ll be out on your ass living in the streets with no food or clothes or anything else you enjoy.”

The elevator arrives, and she drags me inside, tears stinging my eyes. I’m quiet the rest of the way out to the car, too scared to say a word. Mom has a vile and vicious temper. Most of the time, when she is raging, I can find a place to hide. Sometimes I stay with a friend or sleep on a pew in the church. But once she has me…it’s like dealing with a demon.

Hands shaking, I buckle my seatbelt. Mom lights up a smoke as we pull out of the parking lot. She turns on the radio, and an old country song plays. It’s one I’ve heard a million times, but I have a feeling I’ll never hear it the same way again.

Despite how much she has had to drink, the car only swerves a few times. I grip the seatbelt tighter, wishing I could just jump out.

We leave our small town. As we drive, the homes get larger. The massive estates are so far apart that you can only tell one property from the next by the gates. I have no idea where we are. The car slows, and Mom pulls up to a set of black gates. The giant gold M on each side glints in the headlights.

They open as if we are expected. I look back warily before turning to stare at the stone house rising before us like a castle from long ago. It’s almost magical. But knowing my mother, we aren’t here for anything magical. My body trembles as I look out the windshield and watch a man step out the front doors.

My stomach drops. No…there is no way. She isn’t this cruel, is she?

“Get out,” Mom hisses.

Taking the keys, she climbs out of our ancient sedan and marches around to the passenger side. I don’t move. I’m frozen to the spot with my heart in my throat.

Mom whips open the door and leans in close. The stale smell of smoke and alcohol invades my nose.

“Get out. Now.”

Once I unclick this seatbelt, that’s it. Whatever hell she has in store for me will happen, and not moving will only make her angrier.

“Ah!” I cry out. This time, I see stars when her knuckles connect with my face.

Reaching past me, she unlocks the belt, grabs my arm, and hauls me out of the car. Holding the side of my face and still in a daze, my feet scrape against gravel as I’m forced toward the towering house.

“I thought you said she was compliant,” a man says.

I look up, but the lights shining from the house turn the man into a black silhouette. Or maybe the Devil has no face.

“She will be. Now, where’s my money,” my mother asks, confirming all my fears with four little words.

I jerk away, but her nails dig painfully into my skin. When I wince, she glares at me, testing me to try her again.

“Here,” he says, holding out a thick envelope.

“And I never have to see the little bitch again, right?”

My head snaps up, and I stare at my mother. She’s not just selling me for a night…she’s getting rid of me. The thing she can’t stand. The vile creature she hates most in this world because I stole her beauty and opportunities for a better life by being born. She won’t have to deal with me anymore.

“It’s all there and no. But don’t come back crying and looking for more.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

She drops my arm, and I make a break for it. I run through the flowers, but the gate at the end of the drive is closed. Turning, I race along a stone path that leads to a pond. I haven’t gotten halfway before arms snake around my waist and pick me up off the ground.

“Ah! Let go of me! Get off me,” I scream into the night, but he is much larger and stronger.

I claw at his arms and kick my legs like a feral animal. He just swears and keeps walking, taking me back to the house and what I’m sure will be my death.