Just a sliver of sunlight came through my curtain, barely noticeable but it was still enough to wake me. I slowly sat up in my bed looking about my room, feeling the soreness in my arms, trying to remember what all had occurred the previous night. The realization began to creep in and I felt my tired eyes bug as it dawned on me that I killed a man, dragging his lifeless body into the wooded area, but I didn't remember something vital about last night, cleaning up the blood from in the kitchen. I practically leaped from my bed and ran straight for it, passing mother who started waking from her 'peaceful' slumber and cautiously looked inside. Spotless. The kitchen was spotless; it looked as there'd never been a struggle in the first place. I jumped as I felt a very gentle tap on my shoulder, turning around cautiously, fearing whoever it may be. Praying it wasn't mommy of the month.  A tall figure with gentle green eyes and stitches stared at me much to my relief and surprise. "Lui! What are you doing here? My mother's on the couch, she could wake up at any second!" I whisper-yelled at my strung-together friend. He shrugged leaning into her and whispering in her ear, "I know but need you to hide me until nightfall. I mean I did clean your kitchen", and walked to my bedroom soundlessly. I stood there begging the universe that Lui didn't really have to clean the kitchen, that all this was a demented dream. Then I heard her, Mother's voice croaked from the living room. "(y/n), where are you?" God her sickening, drunken, lazy, ass voice was enough to drive me insane. I knew the truth now and just how much my mother "loved and cared" for me. My mother loved and cared for me enough to kill my own father and use her own daughter's innocence as retribution for her nightly fixes and hitman services. I walked into the living room, poker faced as to try and hide the hellfire whipping through my mind, and stared at her laying on the couch. "Yes?", was all I could say, fighting the venom trying to spew up on my voice. Mother rolled over in pained groans to face her daughter, "honey, what happened last night?" She said, dragging a hand down her face, groaning like the undead. I blinked in disbelief.  Did she just asked what happened?! Does she really not remember what she tried to do?! What she put me through?! My anger began to swell with each passing second of silence and the rapid fire of unvoiced questions in my mind. I bit all the anger down and stepped closer to my mother's side, kneeling beside the couch, I whispered emotionless into her ear. "How about you tell me about daddy? Or how you tried to pay off his hit with your daughter's virginity?" I stood back up, not caring to see her reaction, and walked into the kitchen as she gasped. I listened to the sound of her frantically trying to get up, though I'm sure her body strongly protested. She then proceeded to, with great struggle, to follow me into the kitchen. "(y/n), honey, did that man rape you?", she said, her voice tinged with concern as she reached out to touch my arm, "Did he?" I spun around on my heels as I felt mommy dearest's hand touch me. I quickly jerked it away.  "No. But drop the damn act women!!! Quit pretending to give a rat's ass about me when we both know you don't and never could. You come home nightly, drunk off your ass, with a new man each night, and don't even bother to lie to my face and say you have no freaking idea as to what I am talking about! You let your husband be killed by some bum and for payment, because you're broke, due to your never ending alcoholism, you offered that man your daughter's innocence!!! What the hell is wrong with you?!" I stared at her, unconcerned by how shaken she was by my words and the obvious hurt, betrayal, and anger in my voice. So sorry that the truth hurts...  Tears streaming down her face, my mother asked me once more in a voice barely above a whisper, "Did he rape you?" I  caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the wall. A reflection revealing a simple little, glittering, metallic object left out like a reminder of the night before. I stared at it as everything seemed to slow to a crawl. My mother's voice drowned out by my own heartbeat as I heard that voice, the one I resented and yet, began to adore at the same time. "Mercy..." I whispered faintly as my mother backed away from me. My mother must have caught little bits of what I said as her face contorted in confusion and worry, "What honey?" She said daring to touch me again but I darted back even closer to the knife. "You built this monster Mother, you deserve to get what you gave..." My mother, still oblivious to my intentions, stepped closer, "Sweetheart, why are you talking about?" Her concern seeping through in each word. It sickened me, this faux concern, the disgusting lies, the revolting taste of her motherly love. I snapped.