A new girl had moved to town from New York.
Not the city, but still...much cooler than our small town.
We became fast friends, and she lived in town too, so we could easily walk to each other's houses.
One weekend, I spent the night at her house.
Even though it was possible for me to walk to my mother's house, I technically wasn't supposed to be there.
It was my dad's weekend.
According to my mother, dad would have to pick me up and drive me across town back to her.
She'd made it very clear. I was not allowed back to her house or to contact her during my dad's weekends.
We were playing in the yard when Jessica's parents called her inside.
And out of the blue they laid into her.
I didn't understand what the problem was, but the gist seemed to be that there were dishes in the sink.
They told me to go home.
I explained the problem with my parents, but they made me pack up my stuff and shoved me out the door.
It was a struggle though, because I had more than I could carry, and I didn't plan on walking.
At my Mother's, I dropped everything in a heap, relieved to see she wasn't there.
But eventually, she came home from her fiancé's and asked why my Brother wasn't there, and I told her what happened at Jessica's.
She was furious. It was my Dad's problem, not hers. I should have insisted that Jessica's parents kept me there and called him.
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
