*17 Years Later*
Go away...
Go away.
GO AWAY!
Look at me!
I looked in the mirror, cherry red and dark purple spots cover my caramel body. My short, curly black hair was sticking out everywhere. I ran my hands over my tear-streaked eyes as I looked at my reflection. I wanted to throw up. I hate this body I am in. I grab at my hair and scream, gripping it hard. I heard footsteps and my bathroom door burst open. I looked over and see my mom. "What the hell, Caelyn? Where's your shirt?" she crossed the room to me, hands on hips, staring into my eyes, waiting for my answer. All I could do is cry. Her arms envelopes me and I just fall apart, crying harder, she lowers us to the ground. Patches of cut hair all around us, I just cried in her arms, she rubbed my arms and back as she tried to soothe me. "Babygirl, who hurt you? Have you, have you been harming yourself? What are all these bruises?" She stuttered over the words, like it sounded so incredulous that I could self-harm. I didn't answer her. I couldn't answer her. How could I tell her that I hate, with every fiber of my soul, my body. She took a deep breath, "Caelyn please talk to me." I slowly looked up at her, and whispered, "I'm a freak mom." She ran her thumb over my cheek, " You are not a freak. You are beautiful. You are smart. You are kind. You are my daug-." I interrupted her, unable to keep it in anymore, "I am your SON momma." She froze. I think she stopped breathing. All I could hear was my own breathing and the pounding of my heart. Then she hugged me tight, saying, "You can be whoever you want to be, my love. If you say your are my son then you are my son. I love you, you're not a freak. Not to me."
I stared into her dark brown eyes, tears rushed down her face, her cheeks tinged pink. I laid my head against her chest, listening to the steadiness of her heartbeat. We stayed like that for a while, her hugging me as we sit on the floor, soaking in the moment. All of a sudden she started laughing, I looked up at her, "What's so funny?" She ran her fingers through my hair, "It's just something that happened a long time ago. I owe someone an apology, I turned out to be wrong." I got up, and pulled on my black shirt, "What is it?" Leaning down, I grabbed her reaching up hands and helped her up. "I'll tell you after we go to the barber. As much as I like the short style, you kind of butchered it." she laughed to herself as I slid on my shoes and smiled. We walk down the hallway to the spiral staircase leading down to the kitchen. My mom grabbed her car keys and I grabbed mine. I went to the garage as she went out the front door, locking it behind her. My matte black Camaro was in the garage.
I work part time at a family friends' auto body shop for the past four years. I worked under the table at first of course, working my way up. The car was a gift from the owner. It was in such a bad condition when it came in, it was practically all rust underneath, it didn't look salvageable. But she, the owner, took it on anyway. She let me help, day in and day out until it was done. As soon as she added a new alternator and transmission, she handed me the keys. "All yours kid." She had told me with a smile. I just about fainted, "No way." She just pats me on the shoulder, "You worked hard, you deserve it." I had hugged her in excitement.
I smiled fondly at the memory of 10 months ago. Getting in and buckling up, I lifted the garage with a button and closing it after I pulled out. My mother was already parked on the street, she pulled off with me following behind. No more than 20 minutes later we pulled up to a local barbershop. Parking by my mom, I got out as my mom does the same. I open the door to the shop for her and she walked through thanking me as I follow after. The shop had a typical look, a counter out front, mirrors on both walls and straight to the back were restrooms and storage. There was light music playing and men talking. There are two twin little boys getting their haircut and a middle-age man getting a lineup. A tall, sturdy looking black man walked up to us. He has a kind smile on his face and soft brown eyes, a bald head and a goatee, "Hey, what can I do for you today?" I talk to him first, "Can you fix this? Even it out and make it look better?" He reached and touched my hair, "You really fucked this up but lucky for you, I'm good at my job." He chuckled as led me to a chair. I sat and he wrapped the cape around me and the white paper around my neck. "I'm headed to the store, next door if you need me." My mom called from across the room, I just nodded and waved to her as she left.
