A/N: WHEN I TELL YOU, YOU GUYS ARE NOT READY FOR THIS CHAPTER- GOOOOOOD LORDDD I MEAN IT. EHEHEHEHHEHHEHEHEHE.

"So how have things been with your mom?" Billie asked on the phone, now next morning. My mom still gone.

"Oh great," I laughed, trying to sound as convincing as I could.

"Really?"

"Mhm. We've just been avoiding each other- so no hassle nothing to worry about,"

"...Really?"

"Mhm!"

"So... she's not angry at you anymore?"

"Maybe she is," I shrugged, checking the front window one more time paranoid for her to come home and let me leave. "Maybe she's not. Who cares?"

"Mallory? Are you okay?"

"Mhm!" I grunted, realising there was still no sign. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm good- haven't you been listening?"

"Are you sure? Is your mom in the room?"

"Oh no, trust me she's not,"

"So why do you sound so-"

"-Billie I'm fine. Stop asking okay?"

"Alright. Alright I'm sorry- you just don't sound yourself,"

"I am myself. I'm fine,"

"Right... yeah,"

It was starting to eat away at me. I was debating now more on more on calling the police. Not even for my mom- I didn't care about her, for me. How am I suppose to leave?

But what would they even do? They'd be useless. They wouldn't know the half of it.

"So- hows the album?" I smiled, my face hurting.

"Erm... good? Y'know- almost done. Just touching up... on some songs,"

"How great- that's awesome,"

"Mallory- are you busy? I can call you later if you want,"

"Yeah- maybe you should do that,"

"Oh? Alright then... I guess I'll-"

"-Just call me later!" I tried to sound cheery. Before ending the call. "Bye Billie,"

Maybe I should call the police. Or even just break through a window.

I sighed, pressing my moms contact as I called her one more time. Listening to the repeated ring and ring. Ringing and ringing and just fucking ringing until it went once again to voicemail.

~

I sighed. Looking out the window a little longer as night began to drag in again. Still wasn't home. She'd not ran off I knew that much- but I had a job to get to. I'd already missed work today- I couldn't again if I wanted to at some point leave this place.

I couldn't sleep well enough, my eyes felt tired yet I still felt paranoid enough to keep myself awake. Sort of felt like I was being held hostage.

I rang a few more times with no answer. Voice Mail.

There was getting a point in my brain where I was starting to feel a need to escape. I didn't exactly have any plans on how, but all I know was I didn't wanna stay in an empty locked up house much longer.

Maybe this was karma. If I hadn't been given enough. For something I did- I don't know. Maybe I deserved this.

The only thing I could really do was sleep.

~

The door downstairs banged shut, someone had opened it. Someone with a key. I'd just woken up from the noise as I sat up in bed defensively.

I wasn't sure wether to check or stay here.

I stayed on pause for a few seconds. Both worried and curious. Until I'd heard a voice shout my name from at the bottom of the stairs. Belonging to the only person who still had a key to this house. My mom.

"What?" I asked, feeling a little intimidated already.

"Downstairs. Now,"

I didn't say anything else back, if worst came to worst I knew my blackmail and I guess I'd use it. I slowly managed to push myself out my room, down the stairs as I turned to see her in the dining room. Sat on one of the tables chairs.

"Where've you been?" Was the first thing I asked. The fear had began to drain my body, as I was feeling the backlash of being trapped confusedly in this house until she could bother to come back.

"That's none of your-"

"-You locked me inside for nearly two nights and after you lunged at me and chased me into your room! How can you not-! Tell me where you've been!?"

"Mallory Valentine!" She shouted standing up. "You'd acted completely out of order and there was some way I had to deal with it! Don't continue to act this way!"

"You're unbelievable," I laughed sarcastically.

"I called you down to speak to you. Now speak like an adult. Stop acting like a kid for once." she sat back down in her chair.

I sighed, pulling a chair out further away from the table as I sat down. Slouching with my arms crossed as I waited for her to say something else.

"As I was gone I took time to decide what I want to do with you,"

"Do with me-?"

"Your attitude only gets worse. You have no right to try and question me about my past just because of a few things your father says-"

"-I know it's true," I let myself come out with. The words escaped my mouth before I could even think about what I was saying.

Her eyes had grown as she looked at me. I felt maybe I should add more.

"It all just starts to add up-" I tried to swallow my nerves of being honest. Mid way through sentence. "-y'know... like, the age gap. Dad being a college professor... all the random documents lying around, the way you hate Billie Joe- almost like you're looking at him like he's dad,"

Maybe she cared.

Maybe in her own twisted, delusional and apathetic way... she did care.

"Your situation and my situation are not the same," she almost sneered in a warning.

"Is that why you don't want me staying with him? So I don't end up like you?"

She squinted. Before breaking out an empty laugh. "You'd be lucky to end up like me,"

It seems I had mistaken the signals after all. "I beg to differ," I mumbled. Staring at anything but her sour face.

Her presence had become something of a toxic pollution. Creeping it's way into my immune system, inflammatory pain through my body every time she's around. Like an inferno lighting up in the pit of my chest. She was like poison, killing me with every thing she did and yet she was always fine. She wasn't just a toxic person, she was radiating on to the rest of us.

She sighed, after our shared moment of painstakingly awkward silence. "Mallory, listen to me. You are in my way. My way of a new happy life,"

I squinted, feeling the venom seep further into my blood stream with every sentence she continued to growl over.

"I should not have to leave my own house because you've locked yourself in my office. You should've left instead. You cause problems, you wait around and you think they can be fixed,"

"But you-"

"-And if you think for a second it's appropriate for you to bring up my past you're mistaken,"

"You're just angry because it's the same- you just won't admit it," I stated, crossing my arms.

But she just laughed. "I was at college Mallory. You were in high school. Doesn't that speak for itself?"

I stammered for something to say. But my words had rushed away.

It hurt- what she was trying to imply. Wether it was she was better than me because she did the same bad thing a little after me or if I was worse because I did it before she had at her age.

Or that she was trying to insist that I was a high school sleaze.

I knew I should've called the police.

"You leave me trapped in a house for two nights, you come back and you just fucking bitch about everything wrong in your life like it's my fault?"

She'd gasped, but I hadn't taken enough notice to stop with my on going rant.

"All you do is shove responsibility around. You're cold and you're irresponsible and you're still finding a way to blame me for the way you locked me in a house after lunging at me," 

She didn't try to speak. She just stared at me. I felt uneasy. I hated how I felt uneasy.

"Say something then," I told her, staring her back. Uneasy and aggravated by the silence.

She blinked, sitting back casually. "It was never my fault you were a bad child," Was all she shrugged.

I use to believe, when she said things like this. And I probably still would've if it wasn't for Billie Joe, maybe I owed him more credit then I had even realised.

"I wasn't a bad child- you were just a bad mom. In fact, you always will be,"

The silence set in again. Not for long, maybe five seconds. Before she'd gotten up. She began marching over to the staircase, I began to follow feeling more confused then before.

Her footsteps banged on each step as I followed behind, she'd stormed into my room, the door already open.

"What are you doing?" I asked paranoid, behind her as she began to grab things.

She'd gotten down on her knees in front of my bed, beginning to rag things out from under it.

"Mom!" I shouted panicking, trying to grab everything she was carelessly pushing aside.

She didn't speak- almost on mute. She'd pushed and thrown things out her way. Until she managed to yank out an old dusty suitcase from under my bed.

I think that was the point I began to realise what was going on.

"What are you doing?"

She zipped it open before throwing it on my bed. Pulling my clothes draws open so hard I thought they'd break. She began to rip clothes out them, throwing them in the suitecade.

"Mom stop!" I panicked reaching over as I closed the suitecade lid infront of her.

Which didn't help at all, she'd shoulder barged me back continuing.

"Mom I didn't mean it! Put my clothes back!"

She didn't stop. Like she couldn't. She was so determined on it.

That's when I really began to worry.

I felt the 'poison' burn. If it weren't metamorphic this'd be the point of my vomiting with my body collapsing on itself. My chest felt light as I I panicked more and more. My eyes beginning to burn.

I left the room, running downstairs for my phone. I grabbed it off the kitchen side- I was going to ring Billie.

I stood in the living room, my breathing loud as I began hyperventilating trying to consider if calling him was right.

His contact on display on the screen. But I felt on pause.

What would I do? I've got no where.

I tried to call Esme in panic. There was no answer. I knew it'd be too late for her to get the call, her phone must've been on silent.

There was only one person I had to call and they couldn't possibly help me at all.

After a mini panic attack in my head, tears of fright beginning to spark up there was a loud of banging coming down the stairs.

My mom forcefully dragged the suitcase behind her, as it carelessly banged on every single stair it hit.

She'd caught my eye as I looked over at her. Walking over to me, her face of stone before she pushed the suitcase over to me. "Take it, and leave,"

"I'm not taking it!"

"Take it and-"

"-I'm not going- I've got no where to go!"

"Take it!"

"No!"

"Ta-"

"-I'm not taking it!"

There was a moment of silence, faintly hearing my heavy breathing and occasional sniffing. Before she shook her head. "Don't then," she spoke after a moment.

I thought she could've been serious. Kicking me out in the dark and the rain. But was it just an empty threat?

She walked away from me. I could finally try to catch my breath. Before the front door opened.

I panicked, looking at the suitcase on the floor before running over to the front door. My mom stood there with her hand on the door handle. Out the way of the door as she held it open. The rain at an angle just managing to wet the welcome mat.

"Go on,"

I felt my eyes turn manic as I looked at her. "What!?"

"Go!"

"I've not got anywhere to go to!? Where the fuck am I suppose to go!?"

"I don't care!"

"I'm not leaving,"

"You will-"

"-I'm not!"

The women took a breath in. "Don't make me call the police,"

She couldn't of been serious.

But I realised how serious she was. All my clothes on the bedroom floor. A suitcase laid on its back in the living room. The door wide open as she stared at me.

Did I really want to stay here?

I stuttered for the words at first. Before I couldn't help but give in in a panic. My nose stuffy as tears had past the brink of breaking down my face. "Fine!" I shouted, forgetting the suitcase as I walked out the door with my phone clutched in my hand. Already in the blistering rain.

The door had slammed shut the moment I'd walked out into the dark. I spun around to the door shouting my last words with every last breath I could push out at once. "Fuck you!"