The sun glared down on my tanned skin as I trotted along the cracked pavement, my body beginning to sweat. I was clothed in pants and a long sleeved top, my face bare and a cigarette between my fingers. The birds were singing, although I was pretty positive half of them had died from heat stroke, something I was sure I had at that stage. Yeah, I'm dramatic, give me a break.

I had managed to make it a good 30 minutes before I silently started cursing Jack for not just driving me. A walk in 40 degree weather and not a single cloud in the bright blue sky wasn't my cup of tea, I don't think it's anyone's — but that's not the point, a walk would do me good, and isn't it good when you sweat?

I should know better than to rely on Jack, or anyone for that matter. He had bigger issues than to worry about his ex having to get some exercise.

Dragging myself along the pavement, I reached the short cut to my street – a long and dark alley way. Even on a sunny day, it managed to be eerie grey. After a quick thought, I decided it was better than walking around all the streets. I started through it, kicking along the rocks with my feet, staring at the gravel parting it's way as I moved my way through it. I kept my head down, looking at the dust from the gravel, rather than keep looking behind and face feeling even more on edge.

As soon as I reached my street I picked up my speed as I looked around, the feeling from the alley still evident. I looked around my street, the front yards littered with garbage and cigarette butts. If it wasn't obvious, no one on this street was the sort to smile and deliver baked goods, well not baked in the traditional way anyway.

Reaching my house, I stood still for a second, taking in it's small and diminishing state. It wasn't any worse than the other houses on the street, but it was far from being somewhere you could say you lived loud and proud. I walked up to the door pulled my keys out of my bag to unlock it.

"Mum?" I called out as I walked inside, noticing there were no lights on and that I heard no voices. After checking the rooms I bury my face in my hands, giving an exhausted sigh.

She'll be back.

I trugged my way to my room at the back of the house, pushing open the cream door as I'm greeted with sight of my clothes and makeup thrown all over the floor, a state they weren't in when I left.

I just picked them up, shook my head before chucking them away in the draws, not bothering to sort out which draw each clothing belonged to. Choosing out clothes to change into, I quickly slip them on, before giving my knotted hair a brush through.

The moment I set the hairbrush down I heard the front door open and shut, I froze for a moment as I heard muffled voices. A males voice to be exact.

My eyes widened as my heart quickened and I picked up the closest thing to me.

I tip-toed around the house, following the direction of the voices, a deoderant can in my hand. I looked at it and if I hadn't of been shitting myself, I probably would have laughed. That's the first thing I grabbed to defend myself?

I tiptoed pass the lounge room doorway, the deodorant now by my side.

"Did I say you could be here?" A voice growled, causing me to jump 20 feet in the air. I focussed on keeping my breathing slow and steady, and turned to look at her, my blue eyes meeting her icy ones. Debbie was sitting hunch backed and scrawny on the couch, a bong in her hands as she packs the cone piece, her eyes still on mine. I wish I could say I was angry she was in a bad mood, but in all honesty, I was relieved as ever, glad she was home and safe. Although the last time I saw her was two days ago, you never knew when she was going to leave for months with no contact.

"I pay the rent, Mum." I answered her blatantly, trying my best to keep my voice even. "It's my house too."

She spoke, a small smirk on her face, "leave." she continues, "Mark and I want some alone time bub." She turned to something beside her.

"Is this the daughter you were telling me about?" I stepped fully into the lounge room, allowing it to all be in my view. My eyes immediately rested on a man sitting on the chair next to my Mum that looked in his late 40s. My eyes linger on him for a couple seconds, taking in his appearance. You could see from a mile away that his sunken face and veiny body was not caused from anything but heroin. I scoffed.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes, dismissing him and placing my eyes back onto my Mother. "Why's my room a mess?" I asked, trying to change the subject from the man in front of me, in which turned out to be unsuccessful.

"I was looking for something to wear, I wanted to impress Marky." She answered, giving me a sickly sweet smile and reaching over to place a hand on his leg. I tasted bile in mouth at the idea of my own mother doing anything with this heroin junkie in my clothes.

Mark looked at her. "You certainly did impress me Deb," he turned to me, slinging me a comment that made the vile want to turn to a full blown vomit fest, "so does your gorgeous girl."

Ignoring his comment, I just stared at my mother. "Stop going into my stuff, I mean it, and if you're going to, clean your mess up," I paused, taking note of the clothes she's wearing, which were indeed mine.

"I'm your mother, you wouldn't have any of those clothes if it weren't for me." She continued her sweet act as she smokes the cone.

"You've never brought me anything."

She shot me a glare, before grinning and changing the subject, looking down to the mix bowl in front of her. "Do you want one, baby?" She offers me the bong. "Oh! Forget that! Mark brought over an 8 ball, just for us. He won't mind if you have some." I stood there and stared at her for a moment or two as I processed the fact she'd just asked me if I wanted to smoke ice.

"That's fucking filthy." I blurted out.

She stared at me for a second, opening her mouth before closing it in obvious frustration. Turning to the derro beside her, she faked a pout. Over dramatic as always. "Mark, do you hear the way she's talking to me? I've done so much for her." Her voice was whiny and I just squinted my eyes and shook my head in disbelief.

"What the fuck have you ever done for me? You've never done anything. Even as a kid Jason was always the one looking after me. You've never done shit." I growled, my voice laced with anger as I raised it.

"Stop yelling at your mother." Mark warned.

"And you! You can fucking leave. You're disgusting, you know that? She deserves better than to bring a guy she likes home, just to be drugged and probably raped." Okay, maybe a tad too far. I faced him, standing in place, frozen as I see his face visibly twist into anger.

"Show some fucking respect." Mark stood up to his full lanky height, storming over to me in long strides, stopping right before me and grabbing onto my shoulders.

"Don't touch me." I growled trying to get out of his grip, before he raised his hand to me.

Not knowing what to do, I just raised my knee firmly and closed my eyes for a short second in relief when he drops to the ground. I moved away from him as he tried to pull me down. I stopped like a deer caught in headlights as my eyes reach Debbie's. From the corner of my eyes I saw her pick something up off the table, but my eyes were too focused on her face.

My eyes switched to the object flying towards me, and it felt as though everything went in slow motion as it hurled towards me, crashing all over my body.

My eyes flick back towards hers. Don't cry Aubrey. She looked at me, seeming shocked in herself. I'm not.

"Baby.. I'm sor-" As the tears started to pool, I quickly barged out of the house, dialing the only number that I could.

"Jack?"