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Authors: Melodie Bowsher
Tags: Contemporary, Young Adult
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boring into mine in desperate appeal. “You have to understand, honey, I can’t help it. I wish I could.”
But I was too angry to answer that appeal. “You are pathetic!” I screamed. “I hate you! You are a complete failure as a mother.”
That’s when she slapped me. My mouse of a mother slapped me. I stared at her, both shocked and furious, then spat out the words, “Fuck you!”
Then, before I could say another word, she burst into tears. She was shaking uncontrollably.
But I was too wound up to stop now. With my eyes blazing, I spat out the words I knew would hurt her the most. “Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you. You’re a loser just like that drunk you called my father. The minute I can, I’m moving away and never coming back. You’ll never see me again.”
My mother staggered as if I had stabbed her. Her greatest fear always was being alone again, the way she had been when my grandparents died.
“I can’t stand it here. I’m leaving,” I said, and ran out the front door into the pelting rain.
She followed me like a crazy woman, oblivious to the fact that she was wearing only a thin nightgown. Behind me I heard her say, “It’s never enough for you. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”
As I backed my car out of the driveway, I saw her standing on the lawn, soaked to the skin and sobbing.
I drove around for an hour or so, until I calmed down. Then I came home. By this time I felt guilty about what I said, yet I was too stubborn to apologize. When I walked down the hall toward my bedroom, I saw the door to her room was closed. So I walked straight past it and crawled into bed.
• • •
The rain stopped and my sore jaw went away, but my bleak mood continued. Tattie called and wanted me to go out with her. I told her I was sick. Truthfully, I was sick, sick at heart. I couldn’t stop thinking about the argument with my mother and hating myself for driving her away. She had deserted me because I was a horrible, evil person. I knew that now—maybe I had known it all along. I couldn’t pretend or lie to myself anymore. My head and heart hurt so much that I couldn’t move off my bed.
As the daylight vanished and night began, I lay awake remembering and reliving all the times I had treated my mother badly. When I finally closed my eyes, sleep didn’t bring me any relief. I dreamed my mother was chasing me in her nightgown in the rain, only in my dream we were both running down a highway. Out of the darkness a big truck with blazing headlights bore down on her and struck her with a loud thump. I yelled, “Momma!” and ran back toward her. But after the truck roared past me, I saw only a dark and empty roadway. She was gone.
Chapter Eight
The ringing kept bouncing around in my brain until I finally realized it wasn’t a dream. Someone was ringing the doorbell. I pulled myself out of bed, stumbled through the house, and opened the front door.
Facing me was a young Asian guy wearing sweats and a Giants baseball cap on backward.
“Ashley Mitchell?”
“Yeah,” I yawned.
“You’ve been served.” He thrust a folded piece of paper into my hand and departed, leaving me staring after him in confusion.
I opened the envelope and discovered it was a legal document that didn’t make any sense to me. But one thing was clear: this wasn’t a good omen.
• • •
Weeks had passed since my mother went missing. I had done absolutely nothing except wait, since, to be honest, I didn’tknow what else to do. I did stay away from Ecstasy. No way did I want to relive the quarrel with my mother again. Instead, I occupied myself by sleeping late, followed by surfing the Net or watching TV. In between, I would read, paint my nails, and talk on the phone. At night I went out dancing with Tattie to some club or other.
When the senior-trip gang had returned from their seven fun-filled days in Hawaii, I told Nicole all about losing my virginity with Webb. She was shocked. Nic wasn’t
But I was too angry to answer that appeal. “You are pathetic!” I screamed. “I hate you! You are a complete failure as a mother.”
That’s when she slapped me. My mouse of a mother slapped me. I stared at her, both shocked and furious, then spat out the words, “Fuck you!”
Then, before I could say another word, she burst into tears. She was shaking uncontrollably.
But I was too wound up to stop now. With my eyes blazing, I spat out the words I knew would hurt her the most. “Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you. You’re a loser just like that drunk you called my father. The minute I can, I’m moving away and never coming back. You’ll never see me again.”
My mother staggered as if I had stabbed her. Her greatest fear always was being alone again, the way she had been when my grandparents died.
“I can’t stand it here. I’m leaving,” I said, and ran out the front door into the pelting rain.
She followed me like a crazy woman, oblivious to the fact that she was wearing only a thin nightgown. Behind me I heard her say, “It’s never enough for you. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”
As I backed my car out of the driveway, I saw her standing on the lawn, soaked to the skin and sobbing.
I drove around for an hour or so, until I calmed down. Then I came home. By this time I felt guilty about what I said, yet I was too stubborn to apologize. When I walked down the hall toward my bedroom, I saw the door to her room was closed. So I walked straight past it and crawled into bed.
• • •
The rain stopped and my sore jaw went away, but my bleak mood continued. Tattie called and wanted me to go out with her. I told her I was sick. Truthfully, I was sick, sick at heart. I couldn’t stop thinking about the argument with my mother and hating myself for driving her away. She had deserted me because I was a horrible, evil person. I knew that now—maybe I had known it all along. I couldn’t pretend or lie to myself anymore. My head and heart hurt so much that I couldn’t move off my bed.
As the daylight vanished and night began, I lay awake remembering and reliving all the times I had treated my mother badly. When I finally closed my eyes, sleep didn’t bring me any relief. I dreamed my mother was chasing me in her nightgown in the rain, only in my dream we were both running down a highway. Out of the darkness a big truck with blazing headlights bore down on her and struck her with a loud thump. I yelled, “Momma!” and ran back toward her. But after the truck roared past me, I saw only a dark and empty roadway. She was gone.
Chapter Eight
The ringing kept bouncing around in my brain until I finally realized it wasn’t a dream. Someone was ringing the doorbell. I pulled myself out of bed, stumbled through the house, and opened the front door.
Facing me was a young Asian guy wearing sweats and a Giants baseball cap on backward.
“Ashley Mitchell?”
“Yeah,” I yawned.
“You’ve been served.” He thrust a folded piece of paper into my hand and departed, leaving me staring after him in confusion.
I opened the envelope and discovered it was a legal document that didn’t make any sense to me. But one thing was clear: this wasn’t a good omen.
• • •
Weeks had passed since my mother went missing. I had done absolutely nothing except wait, since, to be honest, I didn’tknow what else to do. I did stay away from Ecstasy. No way did I want to relive the quarrel with my mother again. Instead, I occupied myself by sleeping late, followed by surfing the Net or watching TV. In between, I would read, paint my nails, and talk on the phone. At night I went out dancing with Tattie to some club or other.
When the senior-trip gang had returned from their seven fun-filled days in Hawaii, I told Nicole all about losing my virginity with Webb. She was shocked. Nic wasn’t
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