Lonely Nights

Think about this......

                                                                           Lonely Nights.

Another night of silence. Another night of microwaved, cardboard tasting dinners. Another night alone.

'Mum, please don't go out again!' I pleaded with her.
'Saffron, what'dya have against me havin' a gid time?' She scouled at me.
'Mum, you were out last night and told me you would be in for twelve..... you never came in until three.' I stared at her motionless eyes.
'Im going out Saffron and that is final. I can come in when I want, Im a grown adult!' My mother grabbed her sequined purse and marched out of the room and into the hallway in her high, stilletto heels.
'You'd never know....' I muttered and followed her out of the kitchen.
'WHAT WAS THAT? YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE.....GET TO YOUR ROOM! ILL BE BACK LATER!' She yelled at me and i scurried to my room.
Walking into my bedroom was like walking into a completly diffrent house. The living room was dirty and smelled of alchohol. The kitchen always had crums lying about the floor and my mums room is never slept in. In the morning I usually just find her sprawled out on the sofa, still wearing her clothes from the night before. The bathroom is okay, apart from the disgusting yellow paper on the walls. My room is diffrent. Sure, walking into it you would never know that a five year old, an eight year old and a thirteen year old had lived in it. The room had not changed scince I was around five and now I am thirteen. It has plain, white walls and a cream carpet. It is a single bed with a pale blue duvet and on it sat a little brown bear, Kiki. I won Kiki at a carnaval I once went to with my father before he past. I still have Kiki now. My room is always spotless, even though I don't have a lot of stuff, I keep what I do have very clean and tidy. I cuddled into Kiki and listened to my mum slamming the front door shut, locking it behind her.

It's hard to beleive that mum has not always been like this. Thinking back now, I remember the good old days. We used to live in a lovely house and I remember my little pink, girlie bedroom with lots of dollys and teddies. I lived with my mother and father. My father had a decent job, some kind of project manager. He used to bring us home lots of money and he used to adore me and my mother. I was his little princess. I remember his hugs, his smell. He used to wear this aftershave that was not too strong but strong enough to smell and he was always warm and strong and gentle at the same time. One day, father was diagnosed with lung cancer and died very quickly, I think he had had it for a while but never wanted to upset me and my mum by telling us. I still get upset remembering him now. We had the house for a while after he passed but we no longer had enough money coming in so we had to move out. We went to stay with auntie Margret for a while but she soon got fed up with my mums rebelious behaivour and how she never appreciated anything. Now we live from benefits in a council house. I live from benefits in a counsil house. She lives in pubs and clubs with whatever pathetic man she has hooked 'round her arm.
       I was super hungry but didnt bother getting myself anything to eat because I wasn't sure if the microwave was still working.

The End

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