On The Shelves

I loved my mom. I dearly did. She raised me without my dad. He left us when I was only 3 months, claiming he had work but never returned. Even from that time, the glimmer in my father's grey eyes, was nothing but lies. He constantly convicted her of cheating, telling her she was a no good whore, but she did everything. She did everything for for me and him.He would come home late and drunk with a few poorly covered "woman." Or should I even refer to those paid sexslaves as human beings apart of our advanced species?  Anyways, he would scream and cry about how she never trusted him as he was making out with a large breasted sex creature. I understood what was going on. Even from when my eyes were as glossy as marble, I remember him berading her on [ieverything.] How fat she was,shortness, kindess, everything. I was a very silent baby, my mother always told me. Well, atleast when she would talk. Now she would just blink her eyes when ever a man came up. I always assumed it was because of Dad leaving her, but I never can read the secretive blue eyes. Mother also always had her blonde hair in a tight bun, as if her hair would die without the tight bond of the grey hairband. She dressed as if it was still the 1960's and woman wore dresses everywhere. I didn't mind though. We never went out. We never had enough money to pay for good things like cell phones or even couches. We had one small bed in our one person room apartment. Rent was tough on us so as soon as I was 11, I started mowing grasses. I did yard work and other things like kids paying me 10$ to clean there clunky rooms in there 3 story beautiful homes. I have no friends now. I lost my only best friend, Ace, to a rapist. She was very beautiful.She had long, glowing orange hair and ruby red lips with mesmirisng brown eyes. We were going out since we were 12 and we were 14. Im 17 now and today would be Ace's birthday, she would turn 17. I let the tears run as I watched the busy streets. Ace and I always had fun running down those streets like crazy animals, But that one night. The one night I say im busy, she gets raped and murdered. More tears escape my dense eyes. I close them, hoping to surpress the hurtful memories of my beautiful gal pal.

I heard coughing in the kitchen. Mom doesn't cough unless she's- OH NO! I thought. Another plauge?

"Help!" my mom called for me.My name was not help, but I knew I had to do something. I strided into the kicthen to find my mother, crippled onto the floor. I tooka  step back when her full chest collapsed. I dropped to my knees.

"Mom! A-Are you Okay?!" I screamed, touching her cold shoulder. Steam of Ramen filled the air.

"My P-Pills!" she coughed through the thick water vapor. I jumped up