Illusions of Trust

Chapter One: Kicked Out

"Of course."

I reread the letter once more, fighting to contain the anger that boils hot and heavy in my gut. 

Skylar, 

I received another notice about you getting expelled. I know I cannot be present for every part of your life at this time, but please know that I am trying. I am trying to make a better life for you and I. So please help me, help you. This is the last school that is willing to take you in. I believe that it will help hone that special gift of yours. 

Make me proud,

 Mom

Tears prick at my eyes as I reread the letter, once, twice, three times over. 

A year. A whole, long, grueling year. And this - this is what I get from my own mother? A 6 sentenced letter telling me to behave? 

I crumpled up the letter and threw it in the trash and slam down into a groaning seat at my makeshift kitchen table. I stare at the bare, peeling kitchen wall, thinking back to every moment I could remember with my mother. 

When was the last time I saw her? When was the last time I heard her voice? The sad part was . . . I couldn't remember. 

The thought made me feel so . . . isolated. 

Alone. 

Lonely. 

Gravity constricts me, pressing me into the floor. I suck in a painful breath, trying to breathe away the negative thoughts that constantly test the boundaries of my sanity. 

This letter, along with the stack of others I have kept in a shoebox under my bed, are all that I have that confirm that I have one parent left in this world. These letters are how I know that my mother is still alive and thinking of me. 

But . . . A traitorous thought whispers to me,  does she really care about you? 

Why does she never call you? Why does she never visit? How do you know this is your mom? 

Okay, whoa, I'm spiraling. 

I snort out a laugh. 

These conspiracy theory thoughts are showing that I'm slowly losing my mind. Why would a complete stranger send me a letter on my birthday every year? Also, how do they even know it's my birthday? 

Hmm, see? 

Doesn't make sense. I need to lay off the Unsolved Mysteries podcasts and see this for what it is.

I slowly pull the trash can over to me and notice I had missed a brochure tucked tightly into the back of the envelope Mother had used to send me the letter. 

It was pretty, I would give it that. It was glossy black with 'Winter-Moore Academy' typed in white wispy writing along the top. Little square pictures of a Harry Potter worthy castle surrounded by manicured landscaping and posed smiling students blanket the brochure. 

This thing was a parent trap. 

In big glossy letters 'Help your child become the best they can be!' stamped the lower border of the brochure with many more 'make your child great!' gag inducing slogans scattered across the page.

"Oh," Another note slips out from inside the brochure as I thumb it open.

Skylar, 

You're already enrolled. Classes start in two weeks. Books and fees have already been covered which you will pick up at the front office on your first day. I've canceled your current apartment lease. I think you will like the new apartment I've found for you. The address for your new apartment is at the bottom of this letter. The leasing office will provide you with the key upon your arrival.