Mom yells at her partner, "go to the fucking casino some more!" She stands still in her pj's as she drinks some moonshine, she spilled some on her hands, she washed it off but noticed there were no paper towels. I offered to go to the store and pick some up; sternly I hear mom holler, "don't stay out for hours, there and back," the tone of her voice, I could tell she was accusing me of something once again. I grabbed my inhaler, my keys, my water, and I headed out, I walked down the old, decapitated wooden steps; the even sky beautiful as always, My little white car setting in the rough, gravelly driveway, walking over to my car I open the door, mom must've cleaned out my car a little I thought to myself noticing how to clean inside it was. I started the car and proceeded to back up rather easily thanks to my backup camera installed. Later that night I was returning from the store, a mechanical beast smashed the front of my car, the force from the collision caused my glasses to fly off towards the floor, I didn't hit my head or get cut thankfully. I pulled over and had a conversation with the entities within the metal construct, after they conveyed the situation was fine they fled the scene, I sat alone in my vehicle, my heart racing, sweat on my forehead, I felt like I was going to vomit, and worst of all, my brain was on the verge of losing itself; I informed my mother only for her to reply with, "you're full of shit, we can't afford this." Tears filling my eyes I drove to the ER, the car crying out in pain, I made it to the small town hospital and noticed only a few vehicles, I put my mask on and went inside the small, brick building, automatic doors opening up as I approached them. Once inside the individual responsible for registration got me cleared away, immediately I was taken back to a room, lead by a nurse through a yellowish-white, dingy hallway, he mentioned I'd be in lots of muscle pain later even if everything was okay with my body.
In summary, I had x-rays, I was fine yet my mother showed more frustration than worry once she found out I was fine, which I guess was to be expected. Once I returned home I was of course presented with my daughter to take care of, and mother did show worry and concern but sometimes her anger can make me feel worse, even though she spoils me, and hugs me, and even shows I'm very important to her, sometimes all it takes is one word of anger or frustration and disappoint is all it takes to awaken the pain within. I eventually got my baby to sleep and went to bed myself, sad, anxious, confused, and hating myself. The next morning I was prepared, "another day, same shit," I mumbled.
