Losing Control

Time Out

The sun casted it's beautiful warm golden hue, over the quiet neighbourhood where Sarah and her mother, Mrs. Hardgeaves, lived. It had been a long day at the zoo, filled with moments of wonder and excitement followed by a sense of unease and embarrassment. Sarah's mind churned with conflicting emotions as she sat in the living room, the soft hum of the TV in the background providing a semblance of normalcy.

Mrs. Hardgeaves busied herself in the kitchen, washing dishes with a steady rhythm that mirrored her thoughts. She glanced through the open doorway, observing Sarah slouched on the couch, a slight furrow in her brow. The tension from earlier at the zoo still lingered between them, unspoken yet palpable.

"Sarah, sweetie," Mrs. Hardgeaves called gently, drying her hands on a towel and walking into the living room. "Are you okay?"

Sarah shrugged nonchalantly, avoiding her mother's gaze. "Yeah, I guess," she muttered, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance.

Mrs. Hardgeaves sighed inwardly, sensing the undercurrent of frustration in Sarah's tone. She perched herself on the edge of the coffee table, her hands folded in her lap as she studied her daughter. "I know today didn't go as planned," she began softly, choosing her words carefully. "But I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

Sarah remained silent, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on the couch cushion. The events at the zoo replayed in her mind like a broken record, each moment adding to the simmering mix of embarrassment and resentment.

"I didn't mean for things to get awkward," Sarah finally muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Hardgeaves reached out, gently placing a hand on Sarah's knee. "I know, sweetheart," she said softly. "But sometimes, things happen that we can't control. What matters is how we handle them."

Sarah shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her mother's words. "I just..." she started, her voice catching. "I don't know why I get so worked up."

Mrs. Hardgeaves squeezed Sarah's knee gently, offering reassurance. "It's okay to feel upset," she said gently. "But let's try to talk about it. What happened today that upset you?"

Sarah hesitated, her emotions swirling like a turbulent storm. She glanced up at her mom, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "Those boys," she began haltingly, her voice gaining strength. "They made me feel... I don't know, weird. And then you..." She paused, her throat tightening with unspoken words.

Mrs. Hardgeaves nodded understandingly, her heart aching for her daughter's distress. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," she said sincerely. "I was just worried about you."

Sarah nodded, blinking back tears. "I know," she murmured, her voice trembling. "But sometimes, I feel like you don't... understand."

Mrs. Hardgeaves felt a pang of guilt, realizing how her actions might have been perceived by Sarah. She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to bridge the gap between them. "Sweetheart," she said softly, "I may not always get everything right, but please know that I love you more than anything. And I'll always try my best to protect you."

Sarah's frustration simmered beneath the surface, her brows furrowing as she looked away. "You always think you know what's best," she muttered under her breath, her tone tinged with defiance.

Mrs. Hardgeaves sighed softly, sensing the shift in Sarah's demeanour. "Sarah," she said firmly, trying to maintain her patience, "you're still young, and there are things—"

"I'm not a kid anymore!" Sarah interjected sharply, her voice rising with irritation. She rolled her eyes, her frustration boiling over. "You just don't get it!"