Living L.A.

Chapter 6

As night fell, Mom never left the solitary confinement of her room, no matter how much I tried to get her out, she completely ignored me. The way she acts childish annoys so much.

"Mom, why don't you just open the stupid door!" 

"The door is not stupid! You are, you big fat jerk!"

Taking a few deep breaths, I stepped away, clenching my fists in rage. A realization hit me though, standing here, I just took the place of my worthless father, tired, begging, fighting with a grown woman who has the mind of a 6 year old.  Ignoring her would be the best thing for me, but the thought of her doing something stupid and irrational still haunted my mind.

I took a few steps toward the door, leaning my head against it in desperation. 

"Mom, please let me in."

The door flung open in frustration, revealing my mother pacing around the room in her old tattered wedding dress. With a glitzy tiara situated on her head, she smeared on lipstick, smiling in the mirror as if what she saw was pleasing. I groaned at the sight of her.

"Don't worry honey, I'm saving this dress for you, I promise."

"A promise is a comfort to a fool." I replied dryly.

She frowned at me, as if I was the disappointment of the family. 

"Esther my dear, you have a serious problem, you see the world as it is instead of twisting it to your advantage, you are a smart girl, but a lack of imagination is one of your biggest downfalls."

Astonished by the reality coming out of her mouth, I took a few steps back, wanting to give myself some air. Never have I thought that my mother was able to tell me what to do with my life, much less remember my name.

"Um, Mom?"

She didn't answer, and that's when I noticed the glint reality left her eyes. All she kept doing was staring in the mirror, as if she lost her reflection. She walked up closer to the mirror and started to argue with it.

"Oh, so you think your better than me, don't you? Just because you are married to the Prime Minister of France does not mean your the queen of the universe! You are just a gâteau d'arachide drôle!"

She kept holding the stare, as if she expected her reflection to cower and then disappear.

"Mother, first of all, you just called your reflection a 'funny peanut cake' in French, and second of all, it's your stupid reflection!" 

"No it's not! How dare you compare me to that she-devil! That is Madame Beauletta, she may be beautiful but she has the heart of an ugly ogre."

There is no hope for this woman at all, she sees things that aren't there, and she swears that they are.

"You know what Mom, there is a Madame Beauletta, and there is a fashion consultant by the name of Lexi, whatever floats your boat."

She showcased a smile of relief, as if I finally understood her, which I still don't. I honestly don't care if I inherited her mental disease, I will never be able to understand her. 

Needing a sense of reality, I stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me. Taking myself downstairs, I straightened up the pillows and put the knives back in their rightful place in the kitchen draw. Usually, the parents clean up after the kids, but I have to clean up after my parents. Just because one is a psycho and the other is a cheating drunkard, that doesn't mean they shouldn't reside a decent household.

Flopping down in the couch, I examined my work, feeling satisfied. The time is just 6 o'clock and it's the beginning of summer. The crumpled fund raiser flyer on the lonely coffee table was just calling my name, just to have stupid fun. It called my name, Esther the anti-social pessimist.