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“I was sleeping,” I defend.
“It doesn’t matter. Always act like a lady.”
“Of course,” I say softly, automatically caving like I used to.
“Where are you?”
My spine snaps straight. I can’t let her do this to me. I have worked hard on myself to get out of the cycle of shit. “Why?” I ask, instead of giving in to her demand.
“You said you were moving. I need your new address.”
“I never told you that,” I say firmly. I made a point of not telling any of them.
“So maybe I heard it around,” she lies.
“Who told you?” I growl.
“I went to your work. Now, tell me where.”
Fuck. I should have told them not to say anything. At least I didn’t inform them of where I was going. “What do you need this time, Mom?” She always has an ulterior motive.
“I may have gotten into a car accident. I need a new car,” she sniffs. “It was really traumatic, baby.”
She’s so full of shit. “Send me the pictures of your car. When was it? What happened?” I ask quickly.
“Just the other day. I don’t have any pictures. Who thinks about taking pictures right after you barely escaped with your life?” she yells.
I sigh and rest my head on my palm. “I’m not giving you money.”
“Why the fuck not? You always did before. You can’t just change,” she shrieks.
“I can. I did change and will not give you any money,” I explain patiently.
“I gave birth to a girl that would turn her back on me,” she sputters.
“That’s not what's happening.” I attempt to stay calm. “You are going to have to take care of yourself now.”
“You can’t do this,” she repeats.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“He went out with friends last night. He took all the cash we had and left me here with nothing. Nothing, Bree,” she moans.
“He’s not back yet?” I could have written the script of our conversation. It had happened so many times. Except this time, I will not cave.
“No, that asshole. He’s probably fucking someone.”
I swallow thickly. “Find him, ask him for money. I have to go.”
“What? No. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“I won’t tell you, so don’t ask again.”
“Hey, what about your brother? Huh? He said you haven’t been answering his calls. He’s in trouble, Bree. He needs his sister.”
“My brother needs to get help for his addictions. He needs to learn how to stand on his own. I have to go. Goodbye, Mother.” I drop the phone.
I did what needed to be done. I can’t give in. I know from years of experience that they will keep taking and taking if I do. Pretty soon, there will be nothing left of me.
