Page 143 of Under the Waves
Poppy Wells
Every muscle in my legs screamed at me as I ran. I didn’t know where I was running to, but something inside me just knew where to go. It felt like I was like I was running towards the other half of my soul.
Moonlight shone through the clouds, dimly lightly a path for me to follow. My cheeks were still stained with tears, still raw and hurting. My mother…as soon as I’d pocketed the pills, she’d woken up and demanded where they were.
“What have you done with ‘em, Poppy?”
All her words were slurred.
Her eyes blank and glazed.
She wasn’t here. Not really.
My mother was a ghost of herself.
“D-done w-with what?” I hurried to say. Except, all my words came out scrambled and weak. I was always so weak when it came to her. Always so. Damned.Weak.
She grasped onto my arm, her nails digginginto my wrist so deeply blood began to stain her fingertips. I shook beneath her touch.
“I won’t ask ya again, girl. Where are they?”
I couldn’t breathe.
My heart was thundering in my ears.
So loud. It was always so damned loud.
I couldn’t hear myself think.
I couldn’t think of an excuse.
Icouldn’t…
Her other palm slapped my cheek. My head snapped in the other direction from the shear force alone. We were both frail, both malnourished and weak, but whenever her hands touched my skin, it felt like I was a trembling kid and she was a hundred times stronger than me.
“YOU TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!” She screamed.
My face burned.
My wrist bled and bled and bled as she dug harder and harder into my skin.
Just stand up for yourself, Poppy.
You’re stronger than she is.
Just believe in yourself.
Except, I couldn’t because deep down, no matter how hard I pretended like I was unbreakable on the outside, on the inside, I was still just a scared little kid who just wanted to know why she was so unlovable. Why everyone hated her.Hurther.
She let go of my wrist and I had half a second to breathe before she picked up a book I’d left lying out and smashed it against the side of my head. I collapsed instantly to the floor, hands grasping my head as my limbs collided with the floorboards. Pain shot through my head, and I felt for sure I was going to die.
She was furious. “YOU’RE LYING!”
I wanted one of the neighbors to hear her.
I wanted someone to knock on the door.
I wanted someone to stop her.