SODA

Chapter 3: Speechless

While Hilary pulls into my complex, I gaze at the sign to my left, in big bold letters that reads "Westside Gates." Today was an absolute dream. Hilary and I had just come back from an intense, but long-awaited shopping trip. We'd been planning this day for weeks and I honestly don't want it to end.

I live deep in the neighborhood, so it's quite a drive, and for the next three minutes I can feel myself suffocating. I look around only to see what I've always seen. Nothing new, nothing exciting, just some broken down houses that landlords like to charge an arm and a leg for. She turns the corner, and the minute I spot my house- I cringe. As soon as she pulls into the sad driveway of the blue and gray house, I immediately grab my bags and shut the door. I couldn't let her stay a minute longer, or she'd be dragged down by the negative energy surrounding my house. You know what they say, misery loves company. I wave and begin walking towards my door.

I set my bags down and reach for the jingling keys in my pocket. Before I can even pull them out, I notice the curtain next to the door slightly move; I pause and look at the curtain a little closer, when suddenly the door swings open. I tilt my head up and our eyes meet- it's my mother. I'm not shocked; she always does this, but never at the door. I roll my eyes and try to walk past her. She's so, over protective. Before I could get both feet into the house she grabs my wrist and gives me a long glare.

"It's 10:02. You were supposed to be in this house by 10:00."

In one ear and out the other that sentence went, I scoff and release my wrist from her grip. I'm so used to the "You're late" lecture I know what she's going to say before she says it. But because I just had an amazing day, I quickly agree and walk upstairs. I'm honestly not in the mood for it, she always has to ruin things for me; Not this time. The minute I step into my room I close my eyes take a deep breath, and throw the bags into a corner in my room. As they hit the floor I let out a heavy sigh. I walk over to my desk and without hesitation I turn on the radio. Music is the only thing that brings me peace. I listen closely and hear they're playing one of my favorite songs, I begin to sing along.

"So I just packed my baggage and

Said goodbye to family and friends

And took a road to nowhere on my own.."

Gypsy, the things this song does to me. It means something to me, I feel as if it was written for me and only me, especially those lyrics; I'm at a point in my life where I'm ready to be independent, ready to experience life outside of these four walls, ready to be free. I say this as if I'm financially and mentally prepared. This coming from someone who- after this shopping trip has a total of $1.52 to her name. This coming from somebody who's mother lurks by the window waiting for them to come home a minute past curfew, one who yells at them when she catches you in the kitchen whipping up a midnight snack. I am nowhere near ready. I turn the radio down, but still continue to hum the tune as I lay flat on my back. I close my eyes and imagine all of the things I could, and should be doing if my mother wasn't so overbearing. I remain still, not a peep came from me, I grew comfortable with the sound of nothing. Bask in the beauty of this silence, find peace withi-

Before I can even finish that thought, I hear the sound of footsteps; they grow closer as my mother walks up the stairs. I immediately jump up and turn my music up again, because she knows better than to bother me when I'm playing music. But whatever it was it must have been crucial because- the door slams open. I turn my music down and sit there waiting for her to lecture me about something I did wrong... again.

"Azealia, I need to talk to you. It's important."

"Okay, I'll be with you in two minutes." I quickly answer.

She shuts the door.

I sit there; I didn't really take in what my mother said. Now "Important" could mean anything, not always bad not always well. What could she possibly want to talk about; I mean we really don't talk at all, only when she needs something or when she's getting on my back for being late. I gather myself together and head straight for her room. As I head downstairs I caught a glimpse her reflection in the mirror, I pause, she doesn't look content, she looks anxious. I see her glance at me; she motions me to come and sit.

I squint and look from left to right, when my mother doesn't say anything about the skeptical look on my face, I could feel my heartbeat picking up pace. I don't know why I'm so nervous, this conversation could go okay, or it could take a left just like all of our previous conversations. I don't know. The room becomes silent; I try hard not to make eye contact. Why does this all feel wrong? I question myself. Why does it?

She clears her throat, scoots in closer to me and places her hand on my leg.

"Azealia" she said with a sigh, "You are nineteen."

By the looks of it I thought she had finally come to her senses and was agreeing with me. She was going to get rid of this whole curfew business.

"You are now considered an adult."

"Yes! Mom, I totally agree. You know I'm glad that you have finally come to your senses. I mean it was about t-"

"You have to move out."

"Wait... what?" I shoot her a confused look

"It's time, for you, to get out there."

I question as if I don't already know the answer.

"Are you saying that I need to find a place of my own?

She takes a deep breath.

"Yes Azealia, yes I am. You need to experience life outside of these four walls."

My body freezes; I repeat the last thing she said in my head. You need to experience life outside of these four walls?! I don't know why but my body tenses up, my hands begin to shake, I can feel myself becoming, angry. Off of that one, little, sentence.

I stood up.

"Experience life? Experience life? How in the hell could I do that when every time I'm out I have to be home before ten?"

She sits there, speechless. Have I finally shut my mother up? Have I finally made her think?

"That is for your safety Azealia, and you watch the way you speak to me!" Her tone switched.

Safety? What could possibly do me harm?

"Keep me safe from what exactly? You want me to live life, but you're stopping me from doing that!"

"Azealia..."

I can feel my voice breaking, as I struggle to get out the words.

"Thanks for opening my eyes. I'll be out by tomorrow morning."

Don't cry, don't cry, she always does this, nothing new. I hold back my tears until I get to my room, that's when I flop on my bed, bury my head in my pillow and let it all out. Crying tears of anger, confusion, and regret.

I begin to yell into my pillow, "Just as I suspected, the conversation went left!" Well, Maybe I overreacted? Maybe I was too harsh? I really don't know what to feel at this point. I've always had a love/ hate relationship with my mom, and I'm not sure if she did this out of love or hate for me.

After a period of time, I collect myself and start to take action. I am going to prove to my mother that I can move out and support myself. It may take some time but I'm going to do it, and I'm going to do it right.