Her

My parents split up five years ago today. I chose to stay with my dad, and let my mom leave. She was the one who had the affair after all.

I blamed myself for the longest, I felt like if mom wouldn't have had me, then my dad would have stayed interested in her and they would have stayed together. However, after a year worth of therapy, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't my fault.

Today is the first day in two years that I'm seeing my mother before now I only saw her for court. I don't know why my father thinks this is  a good idea, but he does. He thinks that it's time for me to have a mother figure again, after not having one for so long.

I stare out the window of my dad's blue beaten up Cadillac, thinking about how weird this will be. My dad parks the car in front of the small coffee shop, that my parents agreed upon meeting at. I sigh, looking down at my lap, making no movements to unbuckle or get out of the car.

"Kye I know you don't want to do this, but your mother has a right to see you." My father says, softly, hoping not to upset me further.

I simply shake my head. "She has no right, she gave up that right the day she left. Yes, I chose you, but she never even tried to contact me till now." I mumble, barely making out what I said myself.

"Listen, she has done bad things, no doubt but she is your mother and you are going to see her." My dad says, rather forcefully, telling me I have no option.

I sigh as I click the button, releasing my seatbelt, and climb out of the car. I straighten out my shirt and run my hand through my messy, coppery red hair. I walk up to the coffee shop, having a flashback to the first time I came here as a child.

I was five, it was Saturday and my mom told me she would take me wherever I wanted to go in town. I chose the quaint little coffee shop, I had only had coffee once and I wanted to try the 'weird' flavors I heard they had. They also have ceramic mugs instead of paper or styrofoam ones. My favorite mug is a lilac one with a cat on it. When I saw it I ran over to the counter and jumped up and down, clapping my hands in anticipation. It made me happier than the coffee did.

When I walk into the shop, I look around trying to spot my mother. I see a woman slip out of a booth and grab the hand of a small girl. I shake my head, that is not my mother. She doesn't have any other children.

The woman approaches us and when I hear her voice. I know, it's her. My cheeks flush a deep red, my face feeling like it's 1000 degrees. I don't say anything, I just glare at the little girl. Her. It's all her fault, she did this.

Her skin is pasty, but still seems a shade darker than mine. She has emerald green eyes, nothing like my own sky blue ones. She has fiery red hair, much brighter than my own, that cascades down her shoulders like a waterfall. The only thing I can ask myself is 'How is it possible for something so evil, to hold so much beauty?'

She broke apart my family, she's the reason my mother left. It's all her.

I finally snap out of my thoughts after my dad calling my name probably ten or fifteen times. I look up at him and he sighs. " We're sitting." He says, motioning towards the booth that my mother and the spawn of Satan stood up out of.

I sit closest to the opening so that I could bolt, if I needed to. I stare down at my hands, folding them in my lap. "Are you not going to say anything to your mother?" My mother's voice chimes, as soft as a spring breeze. I slowly look up at her, trying to think of what I could say.

My dad nudges me, and I think to myself to just say hello to her, but the words get stuck in my throat before I can verbalize them. "Well, this is your half sister Melanie." She says, motioning to the tiny girl next to her. When I look over at her, my eyes scan across the table and I see something that irks me. Her. She's drinking from MY mug. The one that I've drank from every time I've come here since I was 5. They only have one like it, and she has it.

I narrow my eyes at her, my hatred boring straight into her heart. I hate her, she took my mother, and now she's taking my mug. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I look at my father.

"I expect you to get along well with your sister, while you're with your mother on weekends." My father says and I just glare harder.

"What?!" I yell, not caring that there are other patrons present in the coffee shop. "How can you let this woman who doesn't even know me, take me?" I spit harshly at him, my hate filled gaze turning to my mother.

"I am your mother, and that's no way to speak of me." She says harshly, her voice slicing through the air like a knife. I narrow my eyes at her. "You haven't seen me in two years and the only reason you saw me before that was for court purposes, I'm fifteen, and you knew me when I was like nine. You don't know how much I've changed and how much shit I've gone through because of you." I hiss.

I see her face fall for a moment but then it hardens again. "You will not use that language in front of your sister." She growls and I roll my eyes and say, "Because she's the only child of yours that matters right?"

My mom sighs and massages her temples. "Listen, I'm trying to do something charitable for your father, with the circumstances." She says. I raise an eyebrow at her in disbelief. "I don't need your fucking charity." I mumble before standing up, my stomach twisting in knots. I run out of the store and down the block.

I keep running until I see a sign that says 'Baker Heights.' I punch in a code to the gate and it buzzes to my best friend Natasha's house. Her mother answers the request. "Hello?" Her sweet, kind, voice says through the speaker. "Hi, Mrs. Jiang, it's Kye." I say, knowing even if Natasha isn't home she will let me in. "Okay, baby, let me buzz you in then come straight to our house." She says and then the gates open and I walk through them, rushing to their house, ignoring the adamant pulse of the vibrating phone in my pocket.