Kidnapped by Wolves

Three: Grace Leblanc

---Grace---

**Warning, this chapter describes instances of physical abuse***

“Get out, you damn b***h!” My mom screamed down the hall at me. I wasn’t even sure what I did wrong this time. Did I accidentally leave a dish out when I loaded the dishwasher? Did I forget to vacuum? Oh s**t, now I remember. Today was mom’s weekly game night with her friends, and I forgot to make snacks or set up the dining room. She’d really kill me for that this time.

I left my room, waiting for the beating of my life. “Grace, do you know what today is?”

“‘I’m sorry I forgot, but I’ll go set up right now, then go to the store right now to pick something up. I promise it’ll be ready before anyone arrives.” I told her, begging whatever god was out there that she would accept this.

She glowered at me. Guess I wouldn’t be lucky this time. “Try again. I’m looking for a one-word answer here. Do you know the days of the week?”

I gulped. “Yes, ma’am. Today is Thursday.”

“Oh, so you aren’t completely stupid. Do you know what happens here on Thursdays?” She took a step toward me, and it took everything in me not to run the other direction.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s game night.” I waited for the smack, but somehow it didn’t come.

“And what time is it?” She whispered in my ear as she took another step toward me. I could feel her hot breath on my neck and desperately wanted to be anywhere else, but I knew the punishment would be worse if I ran.

“It’s 5:30. The game night starts in a half-hour.” I answered obediently.

“Great! Now I know you aren’t totally clueless; you’re just lazy and ungrateful. After birthing you, raising you, giving you food to eat, and putting a roof over your head, you still think you can do whatever you want. Well, that ends tonight!” Her voice raised with every word until half the block could probably hear her by the last word. 

“I’m sorry!” I begged her despite myself.

In response, she smacked me with enough force to knock me down and several feet away. She followed the smack with some kicks to my stomach before she bent down and screamed in my face, “Get your ass out of my house!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll fix it, I promise! I can make it right!” I begged her, feeling the beginnings of a black eye forming.

“No more apologies.” She grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down the hallway. I tried to grip my own hair to lessen the strain, but it hardly helped.

She yanked me to my feet and pushed me out the door. “And don’t come back!” She called as she slammed the door in my face.

I stared at the door for several seconds, dumbstruck. My mother had threatened to throw me out plenty of times before, but I never thought she’d actually do it. I hated living here but was trying to save money to move across the country and start over. I had almost reached my goal; I had even turned in my two weeks at my job. Oh well, I guess this would have to be enough. 

The only downside was that I wasn’t able to pack up first, but that’s okay. It’s not like I had anything too valuable except for a couple mementos. I’d had friends and gained some fun memories from high school, but that all ended once I graduated. I functionally became my mom’s slave and whipping boy. Since I was 18, she told me that she was no longer obligated to me and was doing me a favor by letting me stay with her. As if.

I ambled down the driveway toward my lemon of a car. Where would I go? I’d had lots of plans, but since I was a little lower on cash than I’d hoped, I might need to choose a place that was a little cheaper. Big cities would be out: too expensive.

I continued brainstorming as I lowered myself into the driver’s seat. I’d always dreamed of living on the east coast. I think I’ll just drive that way and see what felt right. I turned on my radio for some tunes to start the drive off right. Maybe rock would be first? Then I could turn to rap when the mood hit?

I pulled out of the driveway and toward the freeway, bumping to the music. Just before I left the neighborhood, I heard the radio advertising some contest. What the hell, why not? What’s the worst that could happen? I pulled over and searched the website the radio specified on my phone. Jesus, they certainly want to know a lot of information. Whatever. I answered all their dumb questions and hit the road. East coast, here I come.