Abditory [H.S]

16

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Luella Jones

When I said I was ready for whatever life had planned out for me, I didn't mean to arrive at home for my mom to start yelling at me.

I swear that woman is the human version of a fly, and I'm talking about the one that goes making the buzzy noises at night when you're sleeping. She's like that, waits for me till I'm fully exhausted to force me to hear about her complains all day.

And the fact that she almost grounded me for getting an 84 in my physics test, telling me I need to work harder, says something.

She kept scolding me for thirty minutes, saying how this grade might affect my scholorship. It's not like I fucking failed, mother.

She makes it seem like I didn't solve a single question and gave my teacher a blank paper.

It's not my fault I was too tired that day to study much.

I do everything she needs me to, force myself to work harder than I already do, and I don't even recieve a 'good job' or a 'I'm proud of you' in return.

Little things like that count, you know.

See, she could've simply said "Oh well that's a nice grade, but I know you can get higher next time. I'm still proud of you for trying though." But instead, I got a "What a horrible grade that is! You know who gets that kind of grade? The lazy teenagers who don't want to reach successful places in life. That is absolutely not your grade, the hell were you thinking not studying for the test? Do I need to start teaching you simple physics again? You can't seriously be that dumb. I'm going to need you to go up to your room now and work on the lesson and every mistake you did wrong in the test. You've gotta work harder than that, Luella."

I swear you'd think I was a 7 year old girl getting punished for not knowing what 1+1 equals.

So that brings me to now, currently sitting on my desk, having millions of paper solving questions on it.

It's been about two hours since I've sat here, but she hasn't called me out for dinner yet, making me think she still hasn't finished it.

I've basically done everything, I've just been sitting here staring at the wall.

I wanted to have a breakdown, but it's no use when there's no tears forming in your eyes.

I hate it when I can't cry.

It's that feeling in your heart, when you feel it hit you so deeply, like your heart falls backwards in your chest, clutching itself somehow, to only hurt you more.

Or the feeling in your brain, not knowing how to figure out why'd it upset you so much, trying to form some sort of emotion to it, only to fail and realize you can't cry about it.

Sometimes I just wish I was fucking normal for once, everyone says "weird is cool" but it's actually so exhausting to not know how to feel from time to time.

Whether it's the lack of happiness, or the full bottle of sadness all at once.

I hate the fact that if you have food, shelter, and clothes; you're not allowed to complain about your life.

That's how my mom sees it.

It's that you have those basic needs, you can't say that life hates you, and you shouldn't take them for granted.

I'd replace them all to fill the void in my chest right now if I could, to be honest.

My thoughts are being interrupted by a call from downstairs, clearly my mom calling me for dinner.