Affliction

Chapter Three

         "You know we're having a meeting this weekend right?" my mom asks me. I curled the cord of the phone around my finger as she spoke, my head cocked so that the phone stayed cradled to me ear.

         "Yeah, my social worker emailed me. What's this one about?" I ask her. There was a pit of worry in my stomach. We were so close to me moving back home. Weeks away if we were lucky. I wasn't sure what the purpose of a meeting would be and it worried me that she was calling one. My mom avoided confrontation like the plague and considering the time frame none of it made sense. My mom laughs airily and it sounds forced.

         "Oh nothing serious. You don't have to worry about it" she reassures me. It was half assed at best and I knew then something wasn't right. I couldn't put a name on it. Didn't want to try and put a name on it. I was terrified that at any second, any meeting that the plan would change. That I suddenly wouldn't be able to go home. I didn't even want to consider that it could happen.

         "Are you sure? Did I do something wrong?" I ask her anxiously. My top priority was keeping my mom happy, doing everything to prove to her what a great daughter I was. To make her want me. I knew I wasn't good enough. Not really. If I had been enough we wouldn't be in this situation to start with. But even if I knew the truth I just had to convince her otherwise. It was the only way I was getting home. As long as she thought I was improving enough, that I was good enough then I could go home.

         "Don't worry about it Munch. Everything is fine" Her voice is dead and my heart beats a little faster. She can't see it but my eyes are smarting at that tone. She never used to talk to me like this. Like some fucking robot going through the motions. My mom used to be so alive in everything she did. Vibrant. Never this dead hardly feeling thing she had become. I'd crushed the light right out of her. It didn't seem to matter how many times I told myself I had caused this, I hated that tone. Hated how it made me feel so insignificant to her. Loathed how left out and forgotten it made me feel. But then I had no right to even want something different. I'd done this to her. I'd caused all this. It was a fucking miracle she even wanted me back.

         "Are you sure Mom?" I ask her desperately. I needed the reassurance that I hadn't done anything wrong. I needed to know that everything was okay. My chest was tight and constricted and I struggled to bring in air. Her pause only had my anxiety skyrocketing and my fingers tighten around the cord.

         "Positive" She huffs, annoyed. It stung how quickly it seemed to annoy her. My mom of all people should understand my irrational fear. But then after everything I had done it didn't make sense that I should even think I deserved anything other than her anger.

         "Okay" I reply, breathing deeply through my nose. Sometimes it felt nearly impossible to talk to my mom. There was a chasm of things between us, problems so numerous I didn't even know what the beginning or end was to fixing all of it. For the most part I simply buried everything I felt when it came to her. How could you even begin to build a bridge when the very ground you were building on seemed to crack and break at every moment? I didn't know and sometimes it felt like I was the only one trying.

         "Well I have to go. I've got things to do" My hands cinch into the cord and I blink slowly, forcing my tears back. Every goodbye with my mother was just a fresh reminder, another scar to add. The pain never dimmed because that wound never really seemed to heal.

         "Bye mom. I love you" I murmur.

         "Bye Celeste. I love you too" Her voice was abrupt and the line was dead before I could even understand the sudden change in her tone. I put the phone back in its cradle and looked out the window.