Cracks

Existential crisis- Presley's POV

Presley's POV-

I stared at my little bunch of wildflowers on my arm again with a slight grin on my face. Even when the whole world saw my unruly, nonconforming, and rebellious behavior as wrong and 'too much,' Dylan saw it as beautiful. The tattoo reminded me that he saw me as wild and free. He didn't condemn me for that... He admired it and enjoyed it. He saw me as me, not a problem child or a girl with unfortunate circumstances... just me. It was so nice to be seen.

That was what I kept in mind as I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling in anxiety and worry. It was way too late at night on the day before winter break was officially over. I had school the next day, yet I was still awake waiting up for my mother to get home.

She had been doing quite well. It had been about a week and a half since she had gotten her new job. She seemed to really like it and had seemed to be doing pretty well at it. She had been coming home at decent hours, spending time with me, and trying to be an actual parent.

However, she was supposed to be home by seven that night... Now, it was two in the morning, and I had not heard a single word from her. She hadn't answered my phone calls, she didn't come by to at least check in, and when I called her new job... They told me that she had gotten fired that morning for fighting with a customer.

She had been doing so well though...

I hated that I felt disappointed. I hated that I had even stupidly let my hopes get up. I knew that this was going to happen; it always happened eventually.

So... there I sat, waiting for my mother. I prayed that she was not doing something destructive and crazy. That was what she was best at though. She was best at self destruction, and she always forgot that I was right there along with her in her destruction.

It was almost an hour later when I finally heard the front door open. I instantly got out of bed and rushed through the house to see her. I had been way more worried than I would have ever admitted to.

"Mom!" I sighed in relief.

"Presley," my mother's drunken emotionless voice spoke. "What are you doing up?"

"I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," she sighed.

"No..." I told her firmly as I helped her walk to the couch.

"Why am I like this?" She asked letting some emotion through her drunken state.

It was a question I had asked of her to myself my whole life. It was a question that I had no answer for. "Like what?" I sighed as she began crying.

"Like this!" She sobbed. "This. Me. I... I am the worst person in the world."

"Mom-"

"You deserve better. You shouldn't be here with me. I shouldn't be your mom. How did you get stuck with someone so awful?"

"Momma no," I told her, trying not to cry at her breakdown.

"I'm not supposed to be your mom. You're not supposed to be here with me," she cried.

"That's not true!" I exclaimed as she tried to get herself up from the couch. "I-if I wasn't supposed to be here with you then I wouldn't be here! I'm here with you. I'm here for a reason, mom. You're here for a reason," I tried to tell her. I tried to comfort her. I needed her to calm down; nothing good ever came from her getting to worked up.

"Pft," she scoffed as she waved her hand around drunkenly. "Life is meaningless, and we have no reason. If we did then we wouldn't be in this situation. You wouldn't be in this situation... This situation that I put you in."