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The alarm clock that laid in my bedside table went off but it didn’t go on for long since I threw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces. I sighed as I forced myself to sit up, wincing slightly. I noticed my appearance in the mirror. I hated it so I quickly went to the bathroom and had a shower; I welcomed the hot water as it ran over my body. I didn’t take long since I knew that it wasn’t long before my parents would wake up. I wanted to leave, no I NEEDED to leave before he woke up and start talking to me about how last night was my fault and all that crap. I quickly chose to wear my jeans and a white polo neck jumper even though it was nearly summer time. I stared at my reflection as I pulled my long dark hair up into a ponytail. I looked ugly. There laid on my face was a black and blue bruise over my left eye. It was the first time my father punched on the face. Usually it’s on the arms, legs, stomach etc. I put on my favourite black sunglasses and sighed. I would have to make up a excuse about the bruise to Claire my friend who I was meeting up with later at the train station. I was finally leaving this hellhole. I had been taking crap from my alcoholic father for nearly 13 years. My mother is also taking what he’s giving me. The only difference is, I’m leaving, and she’s not. I’m not stupid. I know that if I stay, my father will kill me eventually. I begged my mother to come with me. Together, we could escape him, she won’t. Says she loves him deep down but she told me to go. I heard a soft knock and I felt myself stiffen. What if it was him? However, I relaxed soon as I saw my mother. She shoved a red box and a envelope in my hands. I looked in the envelope to see it was full of cash. Five hundred to be precise. I was stunned. How the hell? I wasn’t sure how she managed to save up since my father pretty much spend the money on alcohol everyday. She had tears in her eyes as she told me I should go before he woke up. It was then I begged her to come with me again – she refused just as I knew she would. She took the red box and placed it in my small bag I was carrying and told me to open it when I was on the train. She made me promise to live for each moment and to never give up when things got tough. At this point, I had tears, which threatened to spill behind my dark sunglasses. I didn’t want to leave this strong woman who had been there for me for 20 years of my life. I bent down to pick up my two suitcases and quietly made my way downstairs to the front door where a taxi was waiting for me outside the house. My mother gave me a gentle hug, we told one another that we would always love each other and said our goodbyes. I had a letter placed in my bag as well. She wanted me to read it on the train in private. I promised I would. I placed my suitcases in the trunk of the taxi and climbed in, telling the driver the destination I was heading. The train station. I didn’t cry though, I had to be strong for my mother. I wouldn’t look away from here when he drove us off. It wasn’t until she was out of sight that I looked ahead of me. It wasn’t long until I arrived at the train station. I paid the driver and told him to keep the change. I met Claire on the train, she was in her seat reading some book. She questioned to why I was wearing my dark sunglasses and a polo neck as I put my two suitcases away. I ignored them, brushing them off. I think she suspects to what goes on behind close doors. Shortly, the train started moving so I grabbed my bag and told Claire that I was going to the bathroom. She was too absorbed in her book to hear what I said. I squeezed myself into the tiny bathroom, opened my bag, and placed the letter next to the sink and I opened the red box. I gasped as I lifted my mother’s gift. It was a beautiful heart shaped emerald necklace. I clipped it on around my neck as I placed the empty red box in my bag. I turned the envelope to the back and carefully opened it to reveal a hand-written letter which I recognised to be my mother’s handwriting. As I read the contents, I finally broke down in tears. She had told me how glad and happy she was that was away from my father’s clutches. She also mentioned that she just had enough of him, she couldn’t leave him like I did so she did the next best thing. I knew at that moment, I would never see my mother again for she had died. I cried for my wonderful mother’s loss and for mine. The only sounds I heard was the wheels of the train grinding along the tracks softly and my sobs in the small room I was in. God what I wouldn’t give to hear my mother calling me by her favourite nickname for me. It was Angel but I would never be able to hear the words from her lips ever again. It was about five or so minutes that I managed to calm myself down. I knew my eyes were red as I dried my sunglasses. I daren’t look in the mirror in fear I would break down in tears again. I put my sunglasses back on and grabbed my bag. I took a deep breath and sat myself opposite Claire. I blurted out the next few words, which startled her. My voice broke as I spoke. I was trying not to cry again as I stared outside the window, watching the scenes go past. “My mother is dead, Claire”
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