The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

She's drunk. She's so wasted, that her words slur with each failed attempt of speech. This was, in a since, usual-at least for me. Maybe not for my brother, although he claims he shares the same experiences with me. He always thought he had such a terrible childhood, which would always enrage me. Scott, my nineteen year old brother, only stayed with mom for a few years. It's been well over ten years since he actually stayed the night at her house. Mom kept his room the way he left it, I can only assume she hopes he will one day return. Scott, however, shares no intention whatsoever of spending the night here. Mom, in her drunkenness always shows over affection towards me, and I shiver to think what she'd do were Scott here.



She'd smile and giggle like a child then pull me into a suffocating hug. I'd



groan and try my best to politely pull away, but it would most likely end in me having to act like a parent.



My relationship with my mother has never been normal. And by normal I mean where she acts like the parent and I get the privilege of acting like a child. Mom and I have a bond, but sadly it is based on more of my twisting of words than it is of actual love. As she fails to act like a mother, she feels-when she's sober at least-like she owes me something. In a since, in my eyes, she does. But for the most part I don't feel as bitter as I do when I type. She's betrayed me countless number of times, yet I keep forgiving her. Maybe it's because she's my mom, or maybe it's just me being selfish.



Dad would always scold me after mom has taken me on a shopping trip. He'll yell at me for taking advantage of the situation. Is it so wrong to do that? She's all but ruined my life, what are material items to a childhood I never had? Besides, I feel bad for making her buy me items instead of pushing for her to stop drinking. Lately, I haven't allowed her to pay for things. It's more to do with the fact I'd rather not have to deal with her as much as I would were we to go shopping.



Mom isn't like most moms, she's incredibly forgetful and thinks everyone's against her. Just today she barged into my room, yelling at me for not cleaning my dishes. Our dish wisher isn't working and she's too lazy to get a new one. That would require her to go to the store.



"I told you before, Angelica! Clean your god damn dishes. I'm not your slave, I won't clean up after you."



Or herself for that matter. This house is disgusting. I've done my best to clean it, but the stench of vodka and dog hair is so foul that no cleaner will rid the carpet of its smell. I admit my room isn't the cleanest it could be, but it's at least an organized mess. Most people will tell you vodka is the only type of alcohol that doesn't have a scent. I've been already it too long, and it has a scent that apparently only I can detect.



"Mom, I haven't eaten anything. I didn't have any dishes." I protested, staring over my computer screen.



"Don't lie to me, you little bitch. The entire sink is full of plates and cups that weren't there before you came over. Just clean the fucking dishes."



My parents have joint custody of me and my brother. My dad remarried in '05 to a woman named Christina. Ironically, this is the same name my parents gave my sister who died in '87 five days after she was born. My family is full of irony.



"I haven't done anything mom, besides I have work at 4."



"I saw you eating on those plates Angelica. And your little friend drank from those cups, I'm not stupid!"



Keep telling yourself that, mom. I had had no one over for the entire time I was over here.



"No one came here mom. You use those cups for your vodka."



That's one thing you really aren't supposed to call an alcoholic on. Never accuse them of drinking. Especially one that's drinking at the time you're talking.



"I don't use those cups. They don't work in the dish washer so I never use them."



"The dishwasher is broken mom, I know you use those."



Mom snarled, running a rapid hand through her redish orange hair.