The Plastic Man

Michelle Black

"Everyone has regrets. You don't have to do something absolutely terrible like murder, or rape, for you to want to change a few choice decisions in your life. Decisions that at the time, had major consequences. Decisions you can't ever take back."

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"MICHELLE SIERRA BLACK GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW" My mother yelled from downstairs.

Quite the rude awakening to start the day. I sighed to myself deeply, the sun peaking through my frilled curtains to illuminate the vibrant, teal walls of my small suburban room. I stretched before getting out of bed. As I headed downstairs, I was greeted by a disgruntled expression plastered onto the face of a short, middle aged woman standing in my kitchen. The woman had rosy cheeks, a mole to the left of her somewhat wider nose. She had crow's feet protruding from the sides of her small, sable eyes. Her hair was short, coming down to her chin in auburn waves. She gave me a death glare, the sides of her lips curled into a frown at the sight of me.

"What." I said, annoyed at my mother's attitude having woken me up.

"You didn't do the dishes last night after I TOLD YOU TO HAVE THEM DONE BEFORE BED!" She yelled at me.

"Yeah, well. I was tired." I said, rolling my eyes, and leaning against the door frame at the entrance to the kitchen.

"You were tired because you came home late from doing god knows what with that boy!" She brought up, as I instinctually scoffed at this response, having expected it.

"Oh, leave him out of this! You don't know anything. I'll do the dishes next time, so let's stop discussing this." I said, not wanting to hear any more about it before it turned into my mother berating me for my life decisions. I'd rather avoid a confrontation like that entirely. My mom puffed her chest, before sighing defeatedly.

"I give you one task. One simple job. Is it so much to ask for you to do it? Instead of leaving it for me to do? I already have enough on my plate to worry about. I don't need anything extra to be piled onto my shoulders." She said. I rolled my eyes at this attempt at a guilt trip.

"No one tells you to do my jobs for me. You choose to." I said through a snarky attitude.

"I do it because I know how to be responsible. Ever since the divorce, it's just been you and me. I had to do double the work load in raising you. So maybe you could make things a bit easier for your mother by doing as you're told? Instead of making everything much more difficult than it needs to be!" My mother said, starting to tear up.

"Don't bring up the divorce. Don't do this." I said, physically feeling a heated rage building inside of me. I had to use all my will power to hold back from unleashing it on my mother.

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." She starts crying silently. She turns her face, bringing her hand up to cover her vulnerability. I sighed.

"Stop. It's whatever. I'll do the dishes next time. What's for breakfast anyway? I have to head to school soon." I asked. My mother wiped her tears.

"I made your favourite... chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream, and sliced strawberries on the side." She gave me my plate.

"I wanted to surprise you with a nice breakfast. Since I haven't made you it in awhile." She told me.

"Too far back of a while. I am not much of a fan of this "fluffy" sugar coated stuff anymore." I said to her bluntly.

"Oh..." She said, looking down. I observed her shift in expression curiously. I sighed once more.