Mommy Issues

Chapter 9

I heard the front door open and slam shut. I quickly moved across my bedroom to look through my now-repaired windows, just to see my mom pulling out of the driveway.

I carefully got dressed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, put my sneakers on, and went for a run around the neighborhood.

About halfway through my run, I run into a familiar face. One that I hate seeing more than anything. Oakley.

"Well isn't it little miss know-it-all?" she remarked.

"Well isn't it little miss I-could-care-less-how-others-feel-as-long-as-i'm-happy?" I replied.

She followed me with her head, jaw dropped, just as it was a couple of weeks ago in the courtyard. Unfortunately, no one was there to see it this time, which would have been great because she would have been even more humiliated than last time.

After we exchanged words, I continued to run around the block until I had gone the full circle around my house. The run gave me enough time to think about what I needed to do next, so I concluded that I would pay my mother a visit, and ask her to come home so that we would talk there, and that is where I would finish the job. By that I mean, kill my mother.

The next day, I walked to the police station to try and find my mother.

"Hello Officer Finley, I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of which my mother's office is?" I asked.

"W-why do you need inside of your m-m-mother's office? She isn't here..." He replied, nervousness and panic beginning to set into his face.

"Okay, I'm going to be totally and completely honest with you when I tell you this: the squinting of your eyes when I asked if I could go in there along with the uncontrollable sweating was the perfect hint to say to me that my mother is in that office. Your stuttering is a sign of anxiety about the fact that I know that she is in there. Now I will hit you with the facts: you are an awful liar and wouldn't last a second in the interrogation room. I honestly don't know how you are a cop."

The look of awe on his face was priceless. I walked past him and into my mother's office to see no one sitting at the desk. I walked around and found my mother, hiding pathetically underneath her desk, clutching her gun like I would steal it from her.

I noticed that her knuckles were white, meaning that she was really holding onto that gun for dear life.

'Was she that scared of me?' I thought.

"It's time to go home. Now." I demanded

"I suppose it is time we had a conversation about the incident," she replied "but I would prefer to do it here."

"No. We are going home. Our business is not the department's business. Lets. Go." I exclaimed.

She put her gun back into her holster and began walking out of her office, head down.

'She knows she has been defeated. Good.' I thought as I felt a smirk form on my face.

About 30 minutes later, we got back to the house. We went inside and she sat down on the couch, while I stood across the room from her.

"Okay, we should start with what happened earlier this week." She started.

" We were walking home together after school, and she began accusing me of all this stuff that I didn't do, pulled out a knife from her backpack, and began chasing me with it." I began explaining. "I cut through the neighbor's yard, hopped the fence into our yard, ran inside, and hid in the crawlspace in my closet. I then waited for her to check in the closet, and turn around so I could dive out and disarm her. She dropped her knife, so I grabbed it and stuck it in her back. I thought she was dead so I went to call you and was standing by the window, and she saw that as an opportunity to dive at me and we went flying through the window, and I think you know the rest."

She sat there, deep in her thoughts.

" I see," she replied, "Well, I have another thing I need to talk about." She began again.

"What is it about this time?" I replied.

"It's about the murder of another gang member."

"Oh..how so? What happened? Why am I involved in this?" I began. I reached behind me, feeling the knife that I stole off of my mother's desk earlier that day.

"Lydia was in the same gang as that man, and the same knife used to claim Lydia's life was used the claim the life of that gang member." She continued.

"Oh... I still don't understand how I am involved.."

"We found two knives at the crime scene the other day: one with Lydia's fingerprints, and one with yours."

I stood there, staring right into her mother's eyes. I watched her hand slowly reach for the gun in her holster. Before she could pull out her gun, I reached for the knife that was tucked into the back of my pants and lunged at her, stabbing the knife into her stomach.

She managed to pull out her gun and shoot me in the leg, which caught me off-guard.

I quickly got off of her and ran upstairs, limping due to the injury.

I ran into my room and began piling stuff up against my door, knowing that she won't climb through my window. Just in case though, I climbed out onto the ledge and broke off the lattice. I jumped up and grabbed onto the roof above me and hid at the top of the house.

I heard my door burst open, and stuff flying across my room. I heard her climb out onto the ledge below me, and walk around. I waited until she was out of sight, climbed back down back into my room, and ran downstairs to hide underneath her bed.

I stayed underneath her bed for about another 5 minutes before she came into her room looking for me. She searched and searched, and when she went to leave, I quietly crawled out and stabbed her in the ribs, missing the rib bone itself and piercing her heart.

I watched her fall to the ground, struggling to stand back up. She finally stood back up, gripping the railings of the stairs. I landed a kick right behind her left kneecap and sent her rolling down the stairs.

I could hear her groans of pain from the bottom of the stairs. I slowly walked down, to see her propped up against the wall, struggling to hold up her gun with her left hand.

I sat a few steps above her, watching to see what her next move was.

I picked up my knife from next to me pretending to examine it. I quickly threw it at her, landing it in her left shoulder causing her to drop her gun. I quickly ran to the bottom of the stairs, picking up the gun.

I watched as the life slowly drained from my mother's eyes.

"You should've been here more." I explained, "Then you might have been able to save me."