dream on, my dear.

"respect"

She flipped through the pages of her novel, concentrating so hard that at some points, it felt as if she was pulled back into a different world. Aspen never actually enjoyed reading at a young age. It was forced on her. With homework, and her mom telling her to read more, it didn't seem fun. Not until a boy in her class gave her a book. She finished it that day, and since she enjoyed it so much, she went to the library to find more books similar to it. Ever since then, she's been obsessed with reading. She's always had a love for art, and the need to be an artist, and her found love for books brought all of that out. She hated when her reading was interrupted. It always made her lose her train of thought, as if her entire world was just ripped right from her.

"Aspen?" A voice shouted from the kitchen, a hint of anger hiding in her tone.

Nancy, Aspen's mother, wasn't the best. At least, in Aspen's eyes. But what teenager gets along with their parents? She got her artistic abilities and imagination from her, and she was grateful for that, but she always held a grudge against her. She missed the days where she would see her mom at the kitchen table slouched over in the chair, her face so close to the paper it almost looked as if she had fallen asleep on it, scribbling away and focusing so hard that any and every noise just passed through her, as if she was a ghost or in her own world. Her face was always blank. Her eyes would be so focused on the paper, her eyebrows and mouth were always completely relaxed as she focused on the movement of her pencil, unless she was smiling at what she had just created. 

She never had anything negative to say about her work. Or when she was in the garage, with her dirtied denim overalls and white t-shirt, standing and staring at her painting that stood on her easel. Studying and staring down her painting, looking for her mistakes or room for improvements, her mouth always turned in a slight frown, her eyes slightly squinting and her eyebrows furrowing, but not in a way that she looked mad, but in a way where she was genuinely interesting and thinking about what was in front of her. She never seemed bored of her art. She always had her paintbrush in one hand and a pallet smeared in a beautiful array of colors in her other hand. It always looked like she was waiting for it to speak to her. Maybe she was, in a way. 

She always seemed so serene. So peaceful and calm. She never seemed that way with Aspen. She had an idea as to why, but she tried her best not to think about it. She tried her best not to blame herself. Nancy had Aspen at an early age. You'd think that growing up with your child would've meant that they were best friends, but they never bonded. Which for Aspen, was not a particularly bad thing. Although, she admired her mother, she also missed her. She missed the times where her mother was happy. She mad it hard to be around her. She knew that Nancy felt as if she was trapping her. Aspen wasn't sure if it was her job that had stopped her from focusing on her passions or her art. Maybe it was her father?

She looked for every excuse, every possible way or logical explanation, because she didn't want to face the truth.

It was Aspen. Nancy needs to provide for Aspen. Her father left because of Aspen. Nancy needs to live in this town because of her job that she needs to go to, to provide for Aspen.

She was holding her mother back, and they both knew it, but who wants to accept the fact that their own mother holds a grudge against their child for just...being a child?

"Yes, mom?" Her eyes rolled back. She knew that tone of voice. She knew she was in trouble, but there was nothing she could do. Being scared or crying never got her anywhere, which she learned the hard way.

"Why haven't you finished your chores?" The anger in Nancy's tone grew. Deep down, it always scared Aspen when she yelled, but the annoyance and anger dominated the fear.

"I did, mom."

"Then why am I staring at dirty dishes?"

"Shit," Aspen whispered under her breath, "I don't know." Her tone started to rise. Not on purpose, but she wouldn't care. Nancy walks over to the slightly open door and stands there for a second. She wipes her face with her hand, her forehead still glistening with sweat.

"Don't lie to me while you just sit on your ass. Get up and finish your chores."

Aspen closed her fist and squeezed as hard as she could, almost making a face from the sheer frustration. She tried containing herself and calming down. She clenched her jaw and then looked up. She said in a soft, firm, but desperate voice, "I'm not just sitting on my ass, I finished my chores." Her mom's blank stare almost made her uncomfortable. She broke eye contact briefly, and would look back, to see the same stare. It felt like forever before she said something.

"Watch your fucking attitude." She rolled her eyes once more, feeling the tears in her eyes. The frustration alone almost caused her to sob right on the spot.

"What attitude?" She asked, in the nicest way possible that you can in a situation like this, in complete disbelief.

"Finish your fucking chores and stop talking back to me." Nancy inched closer towards her.

"Just leave me alone." She whispered. 

"Your phone."

"What?"

"Your phone, hand it over."

Aspen stared, biting her bottom lip as she felt a tear falling down her cheek. 

As frustrating as everything was, the thing that made her angrier was the fact she just started crying. She goes through this type of situation almost daily. She knew the drill, she knew what her mom would say, and she started crying? 

"Stop crying before I give you something to cry about. Go get your fucking phone, Aspen." She tried her best holding back the tears, but the embarrassment and frustration, and pure confusion as to why she was crying didn't help, and if anything, made it worse. She stood up, walked over to the nightstand, grabbed her phone and quickly walked back over to the doorway. She stood there, holding her phone out hesitantly. Nancy reached over and ripped the phone from her hand. "I'm sick of your attitude and the lies and you constantly disobeying me."

"When did I lie? Or disobey you?" Aspen yelled, knowing it didn't matter for her at this point. Nothing she could do or had already done would make a difference. She could've cleaned every square inch of the house so well, to be completely spotless. But if her mom was in that mood, she was in deep shit, whether or not she was complying.

"It's fucking constantly, Aspen. Never finishing your chores, yelling at me and giving me attitude and your bullshit excuses. You constantly disrespect me. I'm your mother, I give you food, clothes, a roof over your head." Nancy stands in the hallway, yelling at her, waving her arms around and sticking her hand in Aspen's face. Aspen was in complete disbelief, her mouth hung open, and her eyes had grown wide, knowing that her and Nancy both knew she was lying straight to her face. "You will show me respect."

"What the fuck?" Aspen whispered, barely audible, under her now shaky breath. Nancy walked away, going into the kitchen and slamming cupboards and drawers as she 'finished' the chores that Aspen 'didn't do'.  Aspen shut her door and slowly made her way to her bed, and suddenly, she just collapsed on her bed and sobbed. She didn't understand what she was doing wrong. She knew she was a mistake in her mother's perfect life, as Nancy continues to make that perfectly clear. She knew that she was difficult to handle. She just didn't think it would be this hard, or painful. She didn't think it would be this hard for Nancy to love her.

All she could do now was hope life would be better after she moved. Maybe her mother just hated this house, or her job, maybe even this town.

Maybe it wasn't her after all.