For the following weeks, we didn't go to my Mother's.
Then a few more weeks passed, and she insisted we visit. It was her court-ordered time.
My brother didn't want to go back.
My mother cried, and I reluctantly agreed.
She and Rick were hosting my Graduation party in a few weeks, and I didn't want her to cancel it.
She picked me up, and when I told her my brother wasn't coming, she was furious.
The whole way to Rick's, she grilled me and berated me for calling the cops. Somehow it was all my fault.
She said this time was like all the others. That my opinions weren't my own, but my Dad's and his family's.
I told her no. I had called her sister in New York. She looked shocked.
"What did she say."
"Not much." I answered. "She said she needed to think about it."
It seemed to unstick her, and she continued to yell.
When we got to her house, I realized I'd made a colossal mistake and I ran inside to call my dad.
But she yanked the phone from my hand.
"You can't use my phone!"
She took it and stormed to her room.
I hurried out of the house and started walking. I had a friend who lived about 5 miles away. But about a mile in, I realized how incredibly far that was.
I went back, and she said I could use the phone, but I didn't.
I hung out alone in the living room until she took me back to my Dad's.
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
No FicciónBefore 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...
