A Bit More of You

Chapter Seven: Tears On My Pillow

(Photo from scrapbook: Mum in Grandpa's old-fashioned kitchen)

I stayed lying face-down on my bed, barely moving, for a long time. I don't know exactly how long. It could have been a few minutes or several hours. Whatever the measurement of time was, I still felt terrible. I even went as far as pummeling my pillow with my fists out of sheer anger and frustration. I couldn't take anymore of this nonsense. My entire world had crumbled around me within a few short hours. It was all happening too fast. I lay there in a sodden heap, crying my eyes out, while my thoughts buzzed around inside my head like a swarm of angry bees.

"What a wonderful world," I sobbed. "My dad's an asshole, my half-sister is a priss of a princess, and my mum is... is..." 

I struggled to think of the appropriate adjective. Several words sprung to mind, but I didn't have the bottle to say any aloud. The walls were paper thin and it would be downright suicidal to start shouting cuss words - especially about Mum. She would not be pleased.

Well, even less pleased than she already was.

I had to settle for muttering 'stupid stupid stupid' over and over. Then I snatched one of my many bed cushions and kicked it across the room like a football. It collided with the opposite wall, hitting one of my ABBA posters. It got poor Bjorn and Agnetha fair and square in their smiling faces. I stared at them for a moment or two. They seemed so happy together, and I knew for a fact that they had kids, too. They were one big happy family.

I thought about my own family and sighed. "Lucky, lucky me..."

"Sweetheart?" said Mum's soft voice from behind the door.

I jumped, startled, but stayed silent. I collapsed back onto the bed and buried my head under the pillow, and pretended to be asleep.

"Georgia?" Mum opened the door and peered in.

I didn't say a word.

"Georgia, love, I know you're awake. No use faking it."

I smiled to myself despite the tears in my eyes. Mum was no fool and could always tell when I tricking her. Normally I would have just laughed, sat up and invited her into my room. This time, however, I wasn't in the mood at all. I stayed where I was, lying flat on my face, tears trickling down my cheeks. I didn't want Mum to see her 'good, brave big girl' in such a pathetic state.

I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

It was so strange to think how quickly everything was changing. First we moved out of Grandpa's house to a significantly smaller flat halfway across town. Then I was enrolled in a new school where nearly everyone acted like a git towards me. Now I was expected to like this... this... stranger?

"Georgia." Mum was now standing in my room, closing the door behind her.

I still didn't move from my 'existential crisis' position on the bed.

"Georgia, please speak to me. I'm worried about you."

"Well, I don't want to speak to you," I mumbled into my pillow.

"I heard that, miss!" Mum said, sounding cross. "I hope you're happy. Thanks to your horrible shouting tantrum, poor George was so upset and distressed that he nearly went home there and then! He said that there was no point in his staying if you didn't want him there. And Serenity was in floods of tears. She thought the whole thing was her fault and didn't stop crying for nearly half an hour! Poor little moppet, she's probably traumatized now."

"Oh, come now," I grumbled. "You're making it out like she's an infant when she's barely a year younger than I am. And I'm happy I made her cry! I'm happy George wanted to leave! I'm happy happy happy about everything so far! Everything's bloody fantastic!"