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The wind blows into the car as soon as I roll down the window, causing my curls to bounce about on my head. My mom's adult contemporary music subtly playing in my ear as she bobs her head up and down to the tune.
Not wanting her to corrupt my subconscious into playing the song over and over in my brain, I plug in my ear pods.
Enemy by Imagine dragons fades into the back of my head as I softly sing along.
Staring out the window, I take in the scenery of moving trees and houses as we drive right past them.
"We need to get you out of your comfort zone," the words my therapist, Brenda, said earlier echo above the music, "you need exposure."
As if sensing my worries, mom lowers the volume on the speaker before asking,
"Are you okay?"
Being able to read her lips, I just nod without taking out my ear pods.
Moved by rage, sadness and fear all at the same time, I wrap my fingers around my necklace. Throwing back my head, I let the thoughts and memories suffocate me.
We pull into the driveway at home a few minutes later. Finally.
Wasting no time, I rush out of the car and grab the groceries in the trunk, taking them straight into the house and laying them of the kitchen island.
I grab a glass of juice from the fridge and relax by the island as mom brings in the rest of the bags.
I watch her from the corner of my eye when she begins to place the groceries in their designated places in the cabinets. She continues as she bobs her head up and down to a tune she's humming.
She looks so care free, I think to myself. She looks like she hasn't a care in the world, like everything is smooth sailing. It's not in the least surprising. She's always been this way, no matter how hard things get.
Then there's me. I worry about every little thing that goes even slightly out of plan. A creature of habit who takes time to adjust to any new thing. I wish I was more like her, my mother. But I'll never be.
"In most states, it's considered rude to stare, Tamara." She says without sparing a glance.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it. You look pretty stupid." I say, trying to hide my emotions.
She turns around and analyzes my face before speaking, "it's about time."
I look at her with brows furrowed in confusion, "for what?"
"It's about time you spoke."
Rolling my eyes, I let out a breath, "and here I was thinking it's important."
"Well, you know what they say, a word a day keeps the tongue awake." She says with a silly grin.
"U-huh," I say while giving her a look, "and the further up in your room you are from crazy will keep you sane."
"Oh come on," she says before watching me stand up and head for the stairs, "I thought we were good!"
"You thought wrong!" I yell before disappearing upstairs.
YOU ARE READING
No Way Out
RomanceWhen you've lived a life of solitude and you cannot trust anyone, welcoming people in can be hard to do. Tamara Anthony has been homeschooled for six years and finds it hard to trust people. When she's forced to go back to physical school, her only...
