Layla’s pov

I closed the door behind me, shivering slightly because of my wet clothes. It didn’t help that we had no heater in the house.

I don’t bother shouting ‘I’m home’ knowing she wouldn’t care anyway

I walked in further, my converse squeaky from being soaked. I’d have to put them to dry quickly, I thought as my feet lead me to the couch.

I already knew what to expect, already felt the drop of disappointment in my belly. And I was not surprised when I looked over and saw her in the exact same position she was in before I left for school this morning.

The only difference was that she smelled of beer and cigarettes, in fact, she seemed to have drenched her entire clothes with it. It wavery clear she hadn’t bothered to shower and I knew she hadn’t bothered to eat anything as well.

Sighing I walked to our small kitchen, dumping my broken laptop on the counter and swinging my drenched bag beside it. I started unzipping the bag, taking out the books, opening them and prayed they’d dry.

They were a mess and I knew I’d have to buy new ones but not right now. I didn’t have the funds for it.

Grumbling under my breath about how unfair life was, I kicked off my shoes making a mental note I’d place them to dry on my window ledge.

As I walked to the fridge and opened it, I’m not the least bit stunned to see it was half empty. I had only two hundred dollars left from the side hustle I had done a couple of weeks ago. I was planning to save that money for the bills this month but then I’d have to sacrifice our stomachs.

Pressing my lips together in a flat line, I reach into the fridge to grab a pear to munch on.

die of starvation.

my way over.

would be if she didn’t stop consuming

between my teeth as I reach down and start picking up the bottles. I had three in my hands for now when she starts to stir on

I didn’t want to look at her face to see

and slurred. Her breath reeked of alcohol, and that’s

just nod, fitting another empty bottle in my hand,

rain? You’re soaked.” She asked, her groggy voice filled up with

soaked and

So when I did place the bottles down on the counter,

sticking out everywhere. Her eyes are

until she scoffs. “Well, you’re awfully rude to not have answered

barely there shrug. “The answer would be

was being a bit too harsh but could you really blame me? I was frustrated that she was choosing to do this to herself and not fight to

speak

my name this time. The last time she was high

to the cabinet and took out a clean glass. I filled it

she was still my mother and I loved her. She just needed help. That’s

some water mom,” I murmured softly, hoping if she drank enough water it would help

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