Fat Ugly Lies

Chapter 8

Eid Mubarak everybody!! Have a wonderful day, and to all of you who don't know what Eid is/ don't celebrate it, Happy Wednesday!!!

The journey home went considerably smooth,
Well smoother than most days,
Usually people would throw things at me,
But not today,

Today they only gave me dirty looks,
And inaudible murmurs,
It didn't matter if I couldn't hear them,
When you get to a certain stage,
There are only oh so many things someone can say,
That phase you.

Otherwise it's just a regular day,
A regular insult,
And life goes by.
As if it never happened.
Or as if it did happen,
But it wasn't taken as hard to heart,

As if it were a real insult,
A fresh, out of the box new one.
One that makes you acknowledge its presence,
One that makes you look back at yourself,
One that triggers insecurity,

One that makes you remember something you'd hoped you'd put off.

My home wasn't in the best neighbourhood,
The house itself wasn't too bad,
A 3 bedroom house,
That sheltered the three of us well.

My mum,
My elder brother,
And me.

A not so perfect, perfect family.
I don't need a dad,
Especially if they'll just walk out on us,
After getting drunk and hurting us,
And no matter how many chances we give,

In the end, they flee,
Like the unseemly cowards they are,
Time and time again.

I enter through the stoic door,
Into my immaculate front room,
Mother is very OCD,
If the house isn't spotless, she freaks.

I'm home!
I call out,
To no one in particular,
But it's most likely mother hears me first,

Because she's straight in the room,
Beaming happily.
I love my mum, she isn't like those regular single mums,
Frantic, slutty or crazed,
She's nice, kind and let's people help.

Her eyes scanned me.
I could feel her stares,
But they weren't of disgust,
They weren't fixed on my lumps.

Her loving eyes saw past them,
And could only see the damage,
The cuts and bruises,
The pain and suffering.

She was a mother.
And she was mad.
Not because I wasn't perfect.
But because I'd been hurt for not being perfect.