By The Book

One

My name is Clarita. Except pretty much everyone calls me Claire. I've never really liked my name, but my mom thinks it's very special. I was born on the day of January 15th.

I only live with my mom. My dad died in a car crash when I was five. I don't remember too much about it. But I do remember that I thought he was the best dad in the whole world, and that I was very confused when he died. It was a pretty big loss for both me and my mom. My mom never had any other babies, so I'm an only child. It gets lonely sometimes, but my mom refuses to get married again and have another baby.

My mom is kind of like my best friend. She is always a good person to talk to. We have a pretty good relationship. Especially since we don't really have anyone else in our lives. However, my mom pretty much always knows what's going on with my life. Because everyday, she tells me exactly what to do. It may sound pretty normal. But it's not. It's different. It's kind of organized, and easy to know what's going to happen all day, but it's also kind of annoying, because I never get to do what I decide on.

You see, it's not your regular "here's your schedule for what classes you go to at school, and how you should be organized," or whatever. My mom goes over the top. She tells me who I'm going to hang out with at what times, and the exact conversation I need to have with a certain person, and what emotions I need to feel at whatever time. She even tells me to make mistakes. Like, spill my school stuff all over the floor at 1:30. I know it sounds pretty creepy, but I'm pretty used to it.

Most of these things didn't bother me so much, but some of them really upset me. Like how she chooses what friends I can have. Or even the people I have crushes on. But I'm not supposed to complain. I just have to keep quiet and pretend that I decided that myself.

Although my mom knows pretty much exactly how each one of my days go, she always asks me at the end of the day how it was and what I did or something like that. I just go with it like as if she didn't know what I did.

I don't really like the system my mom has for me, but I never argue. Especially because of my dad. She probably just wants everything to go normal and "perfect" everyday so something like that doesn't happen again. But I don't know. I do what my mom tells me to do, no matter how much I hate it.

Everyday my mom gives me a schedule. Like I mentioned before, who I will hang out with, what I will talk about, emotions I'll feel, mistakes I'll make. Even what I'm going to wear or how I style my hair. I try my best to remember all the direction she gives me. If I make a mistake, I get punished.

I try so very very hard not to make mistakes because the punishments I get are awful. Whenever something doesn't go the way mother planned it, she tells me to hold out my hands, and she cuts through the crevices with a small blade. It hurts so terribly. The bigger the mistake, the bigger the cut. I have them all over my hands. They are mostly old ones because I've learned better, and don't get as much punishment as I used to. You think that I could just hide it from my mom, but usually she would find out. Either that, or I couldn't bare to lie. That's also another reason I don't argue with her. I'm afraid she might punish me if I do.

I know her discipline is quite cruel, but I still love her, and I know she loves me back. I wouldn't say she's abusive. She's just... protective.... that's all.

My mom loves to read. She has her own office, and it's full of books. It's basically her own personal library. I'm only allowed to go in there when I have her permission. Probably because of work stuff or whatever. She lets me read any book in her little library. Except one. There's one book in a tiny little bookshelf underneath her desk that I'm never allowed to even touch. I don't even know what it's called. I never knew why I wasn't allowed to read it. Maybe it's inappropriate. But I don't think my mom would have such an inappropriate book in her office that I can't even touch it. I know whatever it is, or anything she does, is to keep me safe. That's what she tells me, and I believe her. Some of the things I don't really exactly understand why her rules would keep me safe. But then again...

I never questioned mother.