"Delilah!"
Ugh. Mom. Shut. Up. I thought.
"Delilah, wake up! You've been sleeping for almost 24 hours!"
What the hell?
Yeah, I shot up into sitting position at that comment. Some might call it having a form of a seizure.
"WHAT?!" I croaked.
Footsteps pounded through my house until my door finally opened.
"Honey," my mom whispered, sarcastically giggling, "you've been asleep for awhile. You ok?"
I sighed. "Awhile" was an understatement.
Suddenly, everything that had happened from the day before flooded into me. "What do you think?" I snapped at her. She jolted back a little through the door.
"Excuse me?" she snapped back feriously, peeking again through my doorway. Gotta love mom.
"Sorry," I muttered. "I just-- I don't even know -- what day is it?"
"Well, let's see," she paused, tapping her finger mockingly on the edge of her chin. "You came home looking like you just fought a gorilla -- and lost, might I add -- on Sunday," she paused again and started to count on her fingers. "So, that'd make it Monday." Again, gotta love mom.
I sighed again. "Thanks, Mom. I'll be down in second."
"Better explain what happened when you do." And she left.
I don't know why I never really flip on my mom when she's being annoying - maybe it's because I pity her. My dad left her when I was 2, so I don't really remember him. Actually, I don't care for him at all. She's told me everything about him... from his apparently mop-like black hair to uncontainable temper. From what I've heard, he was an asshole to my mom, so I don't really mind that he left. Either way, it's just me and my mom now and there's not a trace of my dad left.
*****
"How much did she tell you?" the woman interrupted.
"What do you mean?" I asked, easily confused.
"How much did your mom tell you about your dad?" she clarified. She glared at me as she spoke her soft words. Guilt shined through her deep blue eyes, making my chest tighten. I gazed blankly back at her.
"I don't remember," I lied.
*****
After I got dressed, I took a look in the mirror to see what I'd done to myself. Two deep red gashes had scabbed on my cheek and knee. Bruises had formed on my collarbone and nose, visibly the color of grapes -- both green and purple. Ew.
I hobbled down the steps slowly, making sure not to fall.
"Honey, is that you?" my mom cooed.
"Really, Mom, who else would it be?" I said half-jokingly.
"Right," she giggled back, although I could hear the pain in her voice. "So, what happened?" she said when I had finally made it down the steps. I glared at her.
"Mom, I--"
"Don't tell me the 'It's a long story, I don't really feel like talking about it' bullcrap." My eyebrows raised. "That's bullcrap."
"Wha-"
"Ok, go," she interrupted again.
"I'm trying, but you keep interrup-" I blurted out.
"Sorry," she muttered. "Ok, go," she said, giggling at my frustration.
"As I was saying," I proceeded as I wobbled over the table. "I just tripped and fell on the tredmill."
I wanted to say that I was stuck between myself and helping others. I wanted to tell her that he had destoryed me. Obviously I didn't.
"Seriously?" she was pushing me and I didn't like it. "That's it? Usually after someone does something like that, they don't sleep for 24 hours."
I knew she suspected something more, but honestly I didn't want to talk about it.
"Maybe I got a concussion?" I offered.
"Nope, already checked." I hated that my mom was a doctor.
"Then I don't know! Maybe I was just tired, ok? Just let it go." I was being little too harsh there, oops.
My mom gaped at me. "Where's this all coming from? What happened to the quiet, loving, easy-going girl I used to know? I don't think just a fall on a tredmill can change a person so much."
She really knows how to make me snap.
"I don't know, Mom! I'm done with everything right now! Dylan is having more issues than usual! My friedns are calling, worried about me every second of the day! Even you're bringing more crap to my life! I'm stressed out! I'm done! I - I'm done." My head was in my hands, and I was on the verge of crying.
Warm, strong arms wrapped around me and soon enough, she was hugging me. I pulled away and gazed at her.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "You didn't deserve that."
"It's ok," she whispered back. "Sometimes life gets hard, and you're going to go through things like this. Sometimes you just have to let things go."
