The fight had been raging for close to an hour as Maz crouched behind the couch and tried her best to calm her aunt down. It wasn’t working out as well as she hoped and she only seemed to make the blonde woman angrier. Objects flew over her head and while Jen seemed to have an infinite supply of projectiles her niece did not have an infinite supply of patience. All this because Maz had made the mistake of informing Jen of her plans to move out. Usually so good at predicting her aunt’s moods Maz had been blindsided by Jen’s reaction. Taken aback as she was she hadn’t seen the first vase flying towards her which was why a thin cut ran from her hairline to just above her right eyebrow. What had started out as simple insults of being ungrateful, a whore, a tramp, spoiled and anything else that popped to Jen’s mind escalated quickly to a more physical one-sided fight.
Maz didn’t want to fight back sensing that Jen was genuinely upset. She felt guilty that she seemed to actually hurt her aunt’s feelings. For as much as the two fought and appeared to hate each other Maz never set out to hurt the woman who had brought her up, at least not on an emotional level. She was getting sick of this shit though. Standing quickly she walked around the couch avoiding one ornament and then another on the way to stand before her aunt.
“Will you get a fuckin’ GRIP!” She roared at her aunt only for the woman to bring an arm up and down towards Maz’s head shattering a bottle there. Maz staggered and blinked through the liquid that ran down her face. She gripped the back of the nearest chair, holding herself steady as she glared at her aunt.
“Did you seriously just fuckin’ bottle me?” The girl launched herself at the woman, her hands circling the long neck. Jen’s eyes widened as she realised she’d pushed too far and they tumbled to the floor. Maz’s patience was wearing dangerously thin and it took everything she had to not squeeze as tightly as she could but instead let go her grip.
“Get out.” Jen spoke in a voice that lacked emotion, a complete change from just moments before when she was screaming out threats and insults. “Get out NOW!”
Maz did just that. Without speaking another word to the woman or even glancing in her direction she left the mostly destroyed living room and slammed the door behind her. She ran up the stairs to her room tripping on the way, packed a bag as quickly as she could then apparated away from the house she’d lived in for most of her life.
Appearing in the village she stumbled, not yet over the knocks to the head then looked around herself quickly as she slung the backpack onto her shoulder. It was late with no shoppers remaining on the street and the only noise to be heard were the voices through the pub’s open window. That was where Maz would go - the only place she could go really.
“A bottle eh that green stuff, a room fur the night, a damp cloth an’ a mirror please.” She spoke to the barman while holding herself up with help from the bar. She ignored the eyes of the other patrons that were fixed on her. A smile flitted across her lips when Mr Marsden looked up showing shock at the sight of her. “Ah know am a state afore ye say - that’s why ah need the mirror an’ the cloth.”
She sat in the corner of the room and Keenan brought over all she’d asked for including a room key. He seemed about to speak as he hovered until Maz spoke a dissmissive, “Thanks.”
Maz quickly set up the mirror on its stand and got to work on the cut above her eye while noticing the blood coating her now tacky hair from the wound the bottle had left. Her face was streaked with the sticky mixture that had spilled over her. The purple halter dress she wore was probably ruined since she had no clue how to get the mix of fluids out of the fabric. She really did look a mess and as she breathed in she realised she absolutely reeked of the vodka - cheap vodka. Well she thought, she was homeless, might as well play the part well.
“Fuck it!” she huffed to herself then winced as she brought the cloth to the wound atop her head. “Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck! It!” She drank down a quarter of the bottle she’d been given in the hopes that she would be drunk before the adrenaline faded.Caspian Lanchester