In the morning, Jamara was shook awake by her mother. With a start, she sat up.

"Get the hell out of bed, girl. We gotta talk." Her mother's voice was slurred, and she reeked of whiskey. Sleepily, Jamara grabbed her alarm clock, and thrust it at her mother.

It was 2:30 AM.

"I dun give a flying fuck what time it is!" her mum said, glaring. The alarm clock was torn out of Jamara's hands, and flung across the room. Her mother grabbed Jamara by her shoulders, and yanked her out of bed.

"I said we need to talk, let talk!" She said. With wide eyes, Jamara was led into the back yard, where their house was sheltered by a deep wood.

"You, girl!" Her mother shrieked, pushing Jamara to the ground.

"You made him leave me! YOU! It's all you're FAULT!"

"I... What?" Jamara said, quietly scrambling to a standing position.

"I said you made him leave! You pushed him to the point!" Her mother was getting mad now.

"Who?" Jamara cried, desperately.

"YOUR FATHER!!" With this, her mother slid to a sitting position, tears streaming down her chubby, pallid face. Jamara stood there, watching, eyes wide.

The back door opened, and her older sister, Lena, walked out. Her face was void of her usual makeup, and her pink pajama bottoms dragged in the mud as she walked towards the scuttle. Lena took one look at her mother, curled in a fetal position, crying, and looked back at Jamara.

"You bitch! What did you do to her?" Lena asked, shooting Jamara with her icy glare.

Jamara said nothing.

With a soothing voice, Lena leaned over their mum, "Come on, Mum. I'll make us some tea, and you can tell me all about it." Lena helped their mother up, and gently led her into the kitchen.

For awhile after her sister and mother had departed, Jamara stayed outside, looking at the moon. It was like a bright, clown's face, naked of any paint, just raw emptiness.

"Just like me." she commented, and turned back to the house.

"And. then she. brought up. MIKE!" Jamara could hear her mother wailing. Mike was their father.

"Oh, Mother, she doesn't know what she was saying. Now why did she wake you up?"

Jamara stood in the doorway, looking apathetically at her sister and mother. Lies. All her life her mother had been nothing but lies.

Why did everyone side with her mother, when Jamara wasn't lying?

It just wasn't fair. With a heavy heart, Jamara wandered to the loo, and looked at her reflection.

Who was this girl she saw? Dark circles stained her skin under her eyes. Her black sweat pants and grey sweatshirt drooped on her. Her long, black, hair was tangled around itself, creating an interlocking pattern around itself. Her bright green eyes, blood shot. Diverting her eyes, Jamara's tongue immediately found her lip piercing, and the girl slowly rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, and forced herself to meet the skin there.

It was pallor, and uneven. Scars and bruises, both self-inflicted and given to by her parents, congregated on her once flawless skin. She met the eyes of her reflection once again, and rolled her sleeve down.

She reached over and turned the light out, and dark flooded into the bathroom, taking up every crevice. Some may ask, why turn off the light before you leave?

"Because how does it matter?" Jamara muttered, answering herself before walking into her own, lonely bedroom.