One word that is and always has been used to describe me is impulsive. It's not true though! I'm not impulsive. In fact, I give everything a ridiculous amount of thought before acting, but no one sees this struggle. They don't see the trouble that I go through in order to appear normal, whatever that truly means. It's this "impulsiveness" that caused my mother to lock me inside. I wish I could say her fear was just her being unreasonable, but I can't because it's not. She is being reasonable and I hate it.
I hate Mother's hatred of me and my father. I hate that she's so afraid of our similarities. I hate that her solution was locking me in my room, just so I there was no chance that I would end up like my father. "You can't hurt anyone from your room," she always told me. The worry in her eyes revealed her true concern; I know what she wanted to say. You can't hurt yourself. If only that were true... I could hurt me, I did... I could have hurt her. I never hurt her, not intentionally, but I think that worried her more.
Posted: Jan. 2018
Written by: VC
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Learning and Coping
Short StoryShort Story written for an intro creative writing course (April 2022) Vesta struggles with intrusive thoughts. Following her father's death, Vesta's mother decides the best way to protect her is to isolate her. Desperate for some sense of connection...
