Hope

5

I came home that day after 8 hours of pure hell.

I felt conflicted to the point I skipped last period.

Nobody looked for me and I guessed that's what I wanted.

I braced myself while turning the keys to the door.

My mother was there and her face was the same thing as always from the past few months.

Blank.

Her face may be unreadable but her eyes screamed otherwise.

It was a conflicted battle of emotions in her eyes.

Pity and sympathy.

Tolerance and ignorance.

Fear and hope.

I once had a relationship with her.

She was my best friend once.

But I got older and she became distant.

I became distant to her and myself.

I began to dislike her because she saw me suffering and stood there.

She couldn't even say anything.

I wanted to scream out to her,

"Why are you just standing there don't you see your child in pain.

Why do you want to see your child suffer.

Mommy help me.

Save me."

But alas those words fell short.

My plea fell on deaf ears.

She only saw the things that caused physical pain.

But she couldn't see what was happening inside.

She ignored it and pushed it aside.

Only getting me help when I hit the lowest point.

I almost died and she didn't even notice until then.

I'm still dying and she refuses to acknowledge it.

Her ignorance was her bliss.

Her ignorance was my chaos.