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“Or not. It’s alright. I’ll see you next time. Have a good night,” I tell her as I leave through the door before the mob of people chokes up the exit.
As I walk home, my mind races. What if Mother suspects something, or what if the cops realize it’s not suicide and put me away for life? Will I really be able to do this?
“Marla.” My eyes focus on Sebastian. He’s just standing there in front of my apartment.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him. I’m thankful he’s here, but we didn’t have plans for another hour. Unlocking my door, I let him in, and he sits down on the chair.
“I had some business, so I figured I’d stop by to wait for you. Sorry you didn’t get your number called today.”
“Yeah, it is what it is. I talked to that new girl. Her name is Jess.” He doesn’t say anything. I walk to my bedroom to get changed for tonight.
“Pack a spare, just in case,” he tells me from the doorway, his body leans against the frame. He’s wearing a Billy Talent band tee and old jeans, his hat backwards and all his bracelets are gone from his wrists.
“Okay. Do you have the drug?”
He pulls a small bag out of his pocket. “Crushed it so you don’t have to worry.”
I narrow my eyes, take a deep breath, and put on the clothes. “We don’t have to do this. It isn’t too late to back out,” he says ashe enters the room and wraps his arms around me, kissing my shoulder.
“No, we can’t. I want this. Will she be right out or still awake?”
“Still awake, but I can get more.” I shake my head.
“No, I want her awake. She needs to shut up for five seconds and listen to me.”
He kisses my forehead and grabs my bag of clothes. Without a word, he turns on his heels and walks out the door. I check my phone and see her message. I’m almost late for her dinner. “Let’s go.”
As I walk down the road, the bag practically burns in my pocket. I think about the decades of abuse, the fact she will never change, and the years she swept things under the rug because it was just me. I ruminate on how little I matter to her, the way she blamed me for so many things going wrong in her life. I remember when I went to her, telling her about her friend taking advantage of me and how he would touch me in ways I didn’t want, and she ignored me. The words, the manipulation, the lies, the names, the lack of love.
Reaching the door, I’m reminded as soon as I see her fake smile, why I’m really here. “I guess you only dress up when you have that man around. Glad you came back to me and to make nice.”
I smile as sweetly as I can. This person standing in front of me was supposed to show me the way of life. She was meant to be a role model to me, but instead became fuel for nightmares, and caused years of trauma that hold me down within myself.
“I have been super busy. It’s that time of year for the lawns and stuff, so I only had time to make sandwiches,” she titters on as we walk up the stairs.
“It’s perfect. Did you stop using the lawn care people?”
“No, they were here today, but it’s my job to direct them,” she says sharply. I roll my eyes, as if the workers couldn’t have donetheir jobs without her direction. We sit at the table, across from each other. “I’m so glad you came to your senses. You know how you get, you fall head over heels for someone who doesn’t return the sentiment, and then I’ll be the one to deal with you.”
I nod. “I usually fall too hard and get too attached to someone. It’s a crazy thing seeking validation from other people.”
“It’s about time you had some insight. You aren’t like other girls, Marla. It’s just not in the cards for you to fall in love. Love isn’t meant for you. I wish you could have had what your father and I had, but you aren’t like me,” she smiles. It sours my stomach, another gut punch with words.
“I’ll get the sandwiches. You must be tired from today,” I say as I stand.
“Thank you. It’s nice of you to start caring again. It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you. Just that love and respect you are supposed to give your parents. Grab my drink, it’s in the fridge.”
I grit my teeth. I’ve spent my entire life trying to prove my love to her. All I’ve ever done in life is show her that I was worth something, anything. For her to acknowledge me and be proud enough to love. Her words cut me like a thousand blades. I empty the bag into her drink and watch as it dissolves.
As I walk back to the table, I put down her drink and sandwich and then go back to the kitchen and get my sandwich and a bottle of water. I watch her drink and I nibble on the bread and break apart the cheese to eat.
“Why must you play with your food? You are a grown adult.” Her eyes blaze into mine. The anger behind them is undeniable.
The mask slips for a little longer than usual. “Who can see us? Does it matter how I eat?” I ask her. At this rate, I don’t even care if the drugs don’t work. I’ve reached the end of my rope and if I hold on any tighter, I’m going to hurt myself.
“No, but it’s disgusting. You could have dirty hands. See? I told you that you are an adult again. Happy?” Her eyes still blaze withanger, but her lips are more lax than normal. She moves her arm to hold her head up.
“No, Mom, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy in a long time, but I think that is exactly what you want.”
