Diary of a Fat Girl

20.

Dear diary

This afternoon, when I got home from school, I almost had a heart attack when I saw my mother sitting at the kitchen table.

Normally, she doesn't get home 'til late and since I'm always home alone, I had the right to freak out when I found someone, other than myself, in the house.

But that wasn't the only reason why I freaked. It was also because all of my weight loss pills, blades, plasters and pain tablets were placed in a pile, right in front of her, on the table.

Her expression was a mix of disappointment and hidden anger. She was the perfect example of 'calm before the storm'.

"What is all of this?" she asked sternly as she folded her arms across her chest.

I was ready to lie my butt of but that wouldn't get my anywhere. Instead I ignored her question. "Where did you find those things?"

"Under your bed." She answered simply.

I was about to lose it. "You have no right to search my room. Why were you there in the first place?" I kept my hands clenched at my sides and tried to remain calm.

"I wanted to be helpful by doing your washing since I took a half day but instead, I found these. What would you be doing with these... things." She said it with so much disgust that I wanted to curl into a ball and die but I refrained from backing down.

"Why would you want to be helpful now of all times? You can't just abandon me and then come back when you want to be the perfect mother and help out because that's not how it works! You will never be a perfect mother!" I had lost it; whatever 'it' was.

I wasn't expecting her to lift her hand and give me a swift slap on the cheek. I cupped my cheek and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping.

How dare she slap me? She's just like 'them'. Everyone's the same; they either hurt others or are being hurt by others.

"How dare you speak to me like that!? I am the one who provides for you. Without me you would be on the streets!" she screamed at me. Gone was her cool composure, replaced by a cold-hearted demon.

Instead of waiting for me to say something else, she turned around and picked up all of the things she found in my room. I tried to grab some of the things from her but she pushed me to the ground.

That woman was not the kind-hearted woman that I used to know. That person was a complete stranger, an imposter. My wonderful mother was murdered and replaced by this monster.

She carried all of the things over to the countertop nearest to the empty tin bin and put them down. She then proceeded to move the bin so that I had the perfect view of it, as I remained on the floor in fear of being pushed down again. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a box of matches. I wanted to stop her but I was frozen to my spot. She then proceeded to throw all of my things in the bin.

"This is what happens when you do stupid things to yourself."

She lit a few matches and dropped them into the bin. More matches were added, as if one wasn't good enough. The house filled with smoke and I had to refrain from telling her how dumb it was to create a fire in the house. Instead of that, I got up and ran to my bedroom, making sure to lock my door behind me.

I could hear her curse downstairs and the faint sound of a fire extinguisher. I wonder if she knew that she could have burnt down the house with us inside.

Instead of being gentle and asking why I would be willing to do those things to myself, she lashed out, probably without any control on what she was doing. Like a bull chasing a red flag, not worrying about the other person that might get hurt. Instead of talking through the problem with me, she chose the easy way out and tried to get rid of the threat altogether; out of sight, out of mind.

Well, maybe if I'm out of her sight, I'll be out of her mind like she wants me to be. Then I can do what I want and be who I want to be. I'll be independent, my own person. I don't need her because I have myself.

I'm going to run away.

-Anna