"Behind closed doors."

"You should know to keep your damned mouth shut!” she screamed at me, spit flying in her fury. The punch came out of nowhere, cracking across my jaw, leaving me stunned. The room spun violently, and I could feel my teeth ache from the blow. A hot, throbbing pain spread through my stung left cheek, and for a second, I couldn’t see anything but white.

A cloud of fog obscured her from my view, and while I was glad not to see her sneering look of hate, a part of me wanted to see it, to brace myself for whatever she would throw at me next. But she only stood there, her voice cutting through the silence.
"It makes me fucking hate you," she hissed. I stood there shocked, as she'd just snapped offf any mother-daughter connection we may've had, her words sharper than any slap.
"Get packed," she added, "Now. I'm not housing your ungreatful self another damn day!"

Numb, I turned and stumbled up the stairs to my room. Slipping out of my worn jeans, v-neck-sweater and flats, I folded them neatly and put them in a large suitcase I had bought for just this ocasion. I knew she'd some day kick me out, I knew some day those hard, unforgiving features would turn on me, her only daughter. Changing was a good idea, as in the midwest, it got freezing in mid December, and it was evening, so I figured it was probably 40 degrees outside. I put on a pair of leggings, jeans, a long-sleeved white t-shirt, sweater, and light-weight, but warm fluffy jacket and turned to the mirror. What looked back at me was what adults called beautiful, and what those my age called cute. But now, I had a haunted look in my eyes. The look of someone who hadn't slept well for weeks.

I was always popular, always well-liked, and now that I was the captaign of the cheer squad, I was fit. A heart-shaped face, dark loosely curled hair, green eyes, tan skin, long legs ,and an hourglass figure staired back at me. But this time something was dead in my eyes, my hair hung like a curtain down my back feeling heavier than it already was, and I felt like the ugliest thing my mother had ever seen. She used to tell me I was beautiful, that they should cast me as the newest disney princess. I'd always laugh at her and blush, but two years ago, all of that changed. I blinked the tears from my eyes and turned from the mirror not even looking at my swolen cheek, and took one last look at my room.

It was cozy, special to me, and I'd take as much of it as I could with me. My bed was probably my favorite part, the quilt my grandma made me was a soft cream with a winter sceen embroidered onto it, and I'd never leave that behind. It sat under a window, the wide wooden cill playing host to framed artwork, paintings, pictures, and book covers I'd put on display. My desk was my next favorite part as it represented each part of me. The reader, the painter, the captaign of the squad, and most importantly, the friend.

Quickly, I took my phone and charger off the nightstand, sent a quick text, and then popped both phone and charger into my massive tote. With my heart sinking, I started to pack. I grabbed my makeup bag from the dresser, slipping in a compact mirror, blush, eyeshadow, concealer, my favorite lipgloss, lipstick, and mascara. Opening my large suitcase, I tossed in some folded jeans, a few of my favorite sweaters, shoes of all types, socks, my completed artwork, books, my art supplies, laptop, toiletries, and whatever other stuffI could reach, shoving it all in before I sat on it, zipping it shut.

Downstairs, I could hear her pacing, her heels clacking on the wooden floor. My mother used to be beautiful, with long dark hair she kept perfectly styled, eyes that were the same bright green as my own, and a smile only meant for me. But now, all of that warmth was gone. She looked harder, colder, had lost 15 pounds and she was already thin to begin with. The worst part is her face was now set in lines that hadn’t been there before. Her voice was sharp, her movements stiff, like she held onto her anger with both hands. And her words? They cut like a blade laced with poison.

Our house had always been small but charming, with its worn wooden floors, cozy nooks, and sunlight spilling through the windows. I used to love the kitchen with its checkered tiles, the living room and its big, overstuffed couch, and the little corner by the stairs where I’d kept my favorite books. Now, even those familiar spaces felt hostile.
Grabbing my favorite books from the spot I kept them in and my jewlery box, I headed toward the door.

"Finally, there you are." Her voice sliced through the silence. "I thought I told you to get out, and hurry it up at that." With my bag slung over my shoulder, I made my way toward her. She was waiting by the door, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed with a look of contempt. Before I could steady myself, she gave me one last shove, kicking me out onto the front steps.

I stumbled, catching myself on the icy ground, and the door slammed behind me, sealing me out into the wintery evening. I could hear her shouting my name and I turned around, "and don't come back because I don't want you here and never have." With a shake of my head to keep the tears at bay, I started down my long snowy drive. My footsteps crunched along the icy sidewalk, dragging me away from the prison I'd been living in, and directing me towards something I could call home. Twelve blocks. That’s how far I had to go to reach Brie’s house, and it wasn’t even the first time I’d walked it. I’d always liked exercise, even when the other kids complained about it. Brie’s family had always been different from mine. They were wealthier, with a bigger house, nicer things, and a sense of stability. The entire family, Scot, Lily, and Brie had always been kind to me, even when things at home started to fall apart. I knew, without a doubt, that they would take me in. They would let me stay for as long as I needed. And for that, I was thankful—because right now, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw my uber pull up. A grey SUV with a middle-aged woman driving it. I got in the back, and swung my suitcase up beside me. "Hi honey, we going to #4520, Meadow Road North?" "Yes ma'am." I said, and buckled up.