𝐆𝐎-𝐆𝐎 | 𝐬.𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬

𝟎𝟎𝟖. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

Chapter 8

The Other Woman

There is a fine line between truth and perspective, and Margaret had crossed it many years ago with a new man on her arm each time.

So when Margaret suddenly burst through her door with blotchy red skin, smeared mascara and tears of pure anger that welled in her eyes like you would see in the cartoons. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, punctuating the air with each shiving exhale she took. As her clenched fists trembled with the force of her nails digging into her palm. Each tear that fell seemed to carry with it a piece of her own self pity, as if the very act of crying was an outlet for the overwhelming victimisation that consumed her. Yet, her daughter couldn't help but feel sorry for her mother.

Her mother collapsed in her arms as she wailed loudly. Shoulders shaking with sobs as she tightly clutched to the silk fabric of her daughter's white nightgown.

"How could he do that to me?" She sobbed, "I didn't do anything wrong, you believe me Mitsy?" Margaret clutched her shoulders tightly, "right?!" Her nails dug into the soft flesh of her shoulders.

"Mom, I-" However, before the blonde could get a word in, Margaret had begun her tangent once more.

"I can't believe he ended things like this," she wiped the tears that fell from her eyes. "After all we went through."

"Mom," she whispered as she held the weeping woman, "He found out you were married, right?" She confirmed as Margaret nodded solemnly with a slight shake to her head, "If you're so unhappy with dad...then why don't you-" Mitsy was cut off once more by her mothers shriek.

"No!" She suddenly shot up, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Why not?" Mitsy asked accusingly, narrowing her eyes at the older woman.

"You wouldn't understand!" She voiced, crossing her arms over her chest, "Oh, I don't know why I went to you, you don't even care..." Her voice dropped to a mumble as she looked to the floor.

"Of course I care, mom!" She defended, "I just wanna know why you won't just leave dad 'cause clearly marriage hasn't stopped you from havin' an affair!" Misty stood up from her bed, throwing her arms in the air as she stared at the woman.

"Oh," Her voice shook unsteadily, "I know what happened!" She clenched her fists, "That fat bastard turned you against me, that's what it is, isn't it!" Margaret seethed as she pulled at her scalp.

"What! No! I haven-"

"Shut up!" Her mother yelled, her voice going coarse.

"I'm no-"

"After everything I've done for you!" She began, "This is how you repay me?!" She bellowed furiously.

"No!"

"No!" Margaret screeched at the top of her lungs, "I thought you loved me!" She cried, "I don't understand, why don't you love me?!" Grabbing her daughter by her shoulders once more, only to be shoved off by Mitsy.

"Cause' you always pull shit like this!" She pointed her finger in her face, "You're hurting me, ma..." Her voice shook as it fell to a whisper. Her eyes gathered tears as if they were an overfilled dam, just waiting to burst.

"Dear, I'm sorry-"

"Don't lie to me!" Mitsy screamed, "You've never been sorry for a single thing in your entire fucking life!" Her white ruffle socks padded against the carpet as she stalked towards her cupboard, ripping it open and pulling out the first pair of shoes she saw.

A pair of red ballet flats.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'?!" Margaret grabbed her daughter's wrist as she tried to stop her from reaching the white wooden door of her bedroom.

"Away from you!" She shook her head as she wiped the tear that fell from her eyes.

"Why're you leaving me?!" Her mother threw her arms in the air. Growing agitated as her daughter did nothing to respond, sprinting to her bedroom door, slamming it behind her with a bang!

Margaret saw red, searching the room hurriedly in her rage as she grabbed a glass jewellery box roughly from her vanity.

The mother hurled it at the door, screaming curses at Mitsy as the dainty glass box shattered into countless sparkling fragments, its delicate structure collapsing with a melodious symphony of a high-pitched crack followed by rapid, tinkling, like a chandelier overhead. The once-clear panels now lay strewn across the carpeted floors of the room, reflected by the warm lamp in the corner of her room as it fractured light in all directions, much like the tears of diamonds in her eyes.

In that moment, her emotions surged like a torrential river breaking its banks. Her presence seemed to expand, radiating a fierce energy that crackled in the air around her. Her eyes now blazed like twin flames rather than a crystal river, each flicker revealing the seething within.

The lines of her face were etched like a knife would to stone with a mixture of pure hate, her jaw set like unyielding concrete, and her lips pressed into a thin line that held a multitude of unspoken words. With a voice that cut through the atmosphere, she spoke words that carried the weight of her inner turmoil, each syllable laden with a fierce resolve.

"I HATE YOU!"

___________

The dark canvas of the night enveloped Tulsa, Oklahoma. Casting a shadow over the quiet town. The moon and stars claim their positions in the dark blue hues of the sky, illuminating the surroundings with a gentle pearly glow. Streets that once bustled with activity now lay deserted, as most have succumbed to sleep. The solitude of the late hours is shared only by a few nocturnal creatures and souls.

One of them being Mitsy Rhode.

With tearful eyes, she walked down the road, each step carrying heavier and heavier as she stumbled her way across the pavement. Her shoulders were slightly slumped, as if burdened by the unbearable weight of her mothers cruel words. Soft, intermittent sniffles were carried away by the gentle sway breeze, while her breath hitched quietly every now and then. The subtle quiver in her lower lip revealed her struggle to contain the waves of hurt that crashed within her heart. Her movements, once purposeful, now faltered, and her gaze seemed distant, lost in a landscape that didn't exist.

Did she mean it? what she said... Of course she did! That woman was many things but a liar was not one of them. And the worst truths will always be the ones we convince ourselves are lies.

She tried to wrap her head around it.

Her mother hates her.

The thought in itself is like being trapped in a burning house or drowning under a thick sheet of ice. Inescapable. No matter where you run or where you swim, there's no way of being free from the burden of her words, it sits there in your heart, each beat pumping it around your body and making you feel weak, unwanted, and confused.

Confused because she doesn't know what she did wrong. She was only trying to help, is that so bad? How could the woman that brought her into this world could say such cruel things to her?

She thought her mother loved her, liked her at least.

She didn't understand...