AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In most legal definitions, what she was was anabsent, derelict parent. And the whole “roof over my head” thing is just about the one aspect of being a mother she didn’t fail me at.
The list of ways shedidfail me is vast.
And dark.
And left me with invisible scars that’ll never fully heal.
Do I want to scream in her face for abandoning me so she could go screw and party with famous people? Do I want to rip down that goddamn centerfold that somehow mademean object of scorn and misery through all my school years? Do I want to physically hurt her for the way she let a monster into our home, and into my bedroom when I was thirteen?
All. The. Fucking. Time.
But I know painfully well from the years I did spend yelling at her that it won’t change a thing. It never hurts her to hear my pain.
It only inconveniences her.
Judy Blue: mother of the fucking century.
So instead of getting into it with her, I turn away. This time, in an effortnotto lay eyes on the enormous nude photograph of Judy sitting spread-eagle on a pool table pouring champagne over her vagina, my gaze lands on the coffee table.
Which, currently, is decorated with a glass of something bubbly, an ashtray with a joint in it, and a mirror covered in lines of white powder.
Ahh yes, nostalgia. There’s the home life I remember.
“Alright, let’s hear it,” she sighs.
I turn away from the cocaine to smile thinly at her.
“Hear what, exactly?”
“The fucking lecture. Just get it out. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”
“It’s your life, Judy.”
“Mom.”
I don’t respond. She sighs.
“I’d offer you some, but…”
“Yeah, well, you know. Eleven in the afternoon is atouchearly for me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, calm down, Melody. I had some company over last night. I just haven’t cleaned up yet.”
She sighs, slumping down on the couch and reaching for the spliff smoldering in the ashtray next to the narcotics.
“I raised you in the—”
“Yep, gonna stop you right there, Judy.”
My mother glares at me as she puffs on the joint.
“Iraised youin the spirit of rock ’n roll. And yet somehow, you turn out to be a little narc.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, should we shoot up or something? I mean, gee, mom, it’s almost noon! Chop chop!”
She waves me off, a bored look on her face.
“I gave smack upyearsago, hon.”
