My mother was the first person to ever kill me.
Why you may ask. A mother is suppose to love you, put you first, kiss your knees when they're scraped because some idiot tripped you in soccer practice.
No, not my mom. She hated me. She told me I ruined her life. I suppose I did.
And my scrapped knees? No she yelled at me for being a pussy... Just like my father she claimed.
When I was five years old she made me stand outside handcuffed to a stop sign because my dead beat father was late on child support.
I understood her though. Why would you want something that is half of someone you hate?
That was me
But I got use to her.
She had a serious drug problem. The happiest day of my life was when I was in the sixth grade sitting in my English class. Third period to be exact. My teacher Mrs. Garrison got a phone call from the principal and looked straight at me as she muttered into the phone "uh huh"
"Really?" "Are you sure it's Michael Cody's mom sir?" "Alright sir I'll send him down"
"Michael sweetheart please collect all your things and head down to the principals office."
I can still remember the look on her face. She looked scared, confused, broken hearted. It gave me a rush to see her that way.
I walked in to the office and there was officer standing beside my principal Mr. Jaimie.
"Err you wanted to see me sir?"
"Yes son have a seat" he said.
"We'd like to inform you your mother has passed.
A neighbor discovered her this morning around 8:30 am. Were you aware she had a drug problem?"
"Yes sir" I replied.
He seemed surprised at my honesty
I was so relived to have finally gotten away from her. I hated her and hoped she rotted in hell.
I still do.
