"You are pathetic. Your mother would've had dinner on that table are you even listening to me?! You are so disrespectful to everyone. Learn some respect. Since you can't make dinner like I told you to I'm gonna go to the bar and you can stay here in your room with no dinner. Maybe you'll learn something." He said to me slamming the door. I silently pull the pillow to my face and cry. Mom was perfect and I had to ruin her.
I laid there recalling memories of the precious times we had together. I wish I didn't have to ruin her. I wish my dad didn't make me feel like that. Make me believe that I ruined her. I didn't though. I didn't ruin my mom. I'm closer to her than my dad was.... Well at least in blood lines. I feel like crying now. The little moments like when she was here and I was happy. I wish I remembered a little more of her or my dad didn't lock all her stuff up.
I go to the closet and crawl into the corner. I pull out my wooden box mom got me when I was six. The designs hand painted the box warped with love. The love I wish was still there. I pull out the white tee shirt and the bikers jacket my mom loved wearing. I set them up on my manikin and get my black jetting so out. I look at my outfit and put my black books out. I curl up in bed and fall asleep.
