The bottle smashed against the shabby needlework, showering jagged shards of glass over Danny and the cheap tile by her feet. Ruth glared at her from across the dented coffee table. “Freaking idiot, goin’ and breaking my booze! Do something useful for once and clean it up!” With shaking hands Danny fumbled through the cupboards for a broom and dustpan.

“Where is it?”

“How should I know? You’re the one always breaking crap around here! God, I don’t know why I even bother with you anymore…”

Ruth’s ranting continued as Danny located the cleaning equipment and began working on the mess her mother had made. She was pretty much used to it by now. Nothing her mom did really mattered anymore, because Ruth was insane. Insane. Danny had heard the word all the time at school, back when she’d gone to school, but never really understood what it meant. It was just something most of her unfriendly classmates said about anyone who did something that they considered crazy.

Looking over at Ruth from underneath the broom handle, Danny realized that there was more to it than that. Insanity was not just doing pointless things, it was also doing things with a purpose; sometimes a cruel one. A hand descended across her bent back. “What the heck are you doing? Sweeping the floor? God, you useless animal! I told you five minutes ago to go get me my whiskey!”

Danny straightened up and, averting her eyes from her mother, hurried upstairs to the liquor cabinet. As soon as she was alone Danny sank back against the cold wood of the case and allowed herself a brief moment of venting her feelings with her tears. When the flow subsided, she rose, dried her eyes, and sniffed angrily. She had been through all this before, why should it suddenly start getting to her now? The door to the liquor cabinet squeaked open on rusty hinges. Danny took one of the half empty bottles inside and shut the door. She knew the alcohol would only deteriorate her mom’s delicate mental state, but it was worth it. Anything so she didn’t have to see her cry.