Where are you going now?

"Where are you going now?" Becca couldn't help but ask, although she knew the answer.
"I'm going out, don't worry about me" her mother replied as if she were annoyed.
Becca had been neglected by her mother for as long as she could remember. She had gotten used to it but longed for a real relationship with her. Becca remembered the day she realized her mother was strung out on drugs. Although her mother had never admitted it, she put the pieces together. Her mother often came off as cold even before she started using. But then, she started to leave the house at night and would stay out until God knows when. When she couldn't leave the house she would go into her room and stay there for hours. If Becca asked what she was doing, she would tell her to mind her business. The thought of her mother doing any sort of drugs made her sick to her stomach. She was scared to face the facts so she never bothered to confront her. Deep down she was empty, alone, and hurt. It had been this way ever since her father had passed nine years ago. Becca was fifteen now. Her hunger soon interrupted her thoughts. She had taught herself to cook since her mother almost never did it. She could only think of a few occasions in which her mother cooked, when her grandmother came to town and on Thanksgiving when her father was still alive. Becca headed to the kitchen, it was small but it served the purpose. She knew she wouldn't have much to work with but she could make any little thing into something big and it would always taste good. She remembered there was leftover pasta she had made the night before. She heated it up and headed to her room for the rest of the night. Becca's room was neat. She didn't have much furniture, in fact she hardly had any. Her bed lay against one wall and her dresser lay against the other. The other walls were covered in mostly pictures of her father she had put up to help her remember. As she ate her mind filled with more thoughts of her mother. She knew she wouldn't get much sleep that night. She hated the fact that she cared so much because she felt like no one including her mother cared much about her. She came to the conclusion that she would confront her mother about her addiction. --Breanne