"Hm, now would you look at you."
"What are you doing here? Who told you where to find me?" Marge spun around, and her blood boiled as she faced her mother, the woman who she couldn't stand, for the first time in ages.
"You know, word gets around town fast." Her mother smirked in her face.
"Why are you here?" Marge raised her voice, she was filled with anger.
"It's so funny. I always knew you'd turn out just like me, if not, worse. And you think rehab's going to fix the situation? Ha. What a fool." Her mother turned up her nose at her.
Pacing around the room, Marge's mother ran her hand down every piece of furniture that was in the room. "Cooped up in this little small room, thinking these people around this mother fucker are going to save you from a life that was inevitably handed down to you. You will never be nothing more than the crack hoe you've become." She sneered.
Her words stung Marge. Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at her mother. She couldn't blame her mom for what she'd chosen to do with her life, but her mother was never there to guide her in a better direction, yet pull her along the same path she had went.
"You know, I can't even be mad at you Ma. This is something I'd got myself in to, but why? Why'd you never love me? Why'd you chose the drugs over me?" Marge continued to cry, but the more questions she asked her mom, the more she realized these were the same questions Delilah probably asked herself everyday. Marge was her mom. It burned her soul to know that the woman standing in front of her, was who she now was.
"Would you listen to yourself? Marge you are nothing more than me. The difference between me and you though, is I don't sit around feeling sorry for myself. Drugs brought me more love than you ever will. I don't feel any pain for life anymore. I get so high, my body becomes numb, and my brain becomes almost dead. It's the best feeling ever."
Listening to her mom, Marge almost became sick. It hurt to know, that she was this bad off.
"I think its time for you to go." Marge looked at her mom again. This time, the hate she had, turned into pity. She wanted to do nothing more but wrap her mother into a tight hug, because she knew no matter what her mom said right now, she was still human, she still had a heart. Instead of hugging her she softly whispered, "I'll be praying for you."
"Pray for yourself." Her mother snapped. "But, before I leave.. Here's this." Her mother placed a gift bag down on the desk that sat beside Marge's bed.
Walking out the door, she looked back and gave her daughter an evil grin, knowing for a fact this will probably be her last visit.
Once her mother was well gone out of the room, Marge walked over to the gift bag. She was hesitant in opening it, for she knew it couldn't be anything good coming from her.
She sighed before pulling out the tissue paper.
Marge's mouth began to water, as she held 2 rocks in her hand.
It had been a minute since she felt her emotional escape from the little substance that she now held on to.
She thought about Delilah, and instantly felt guilty for even thinking about taking the step down this road once again.
Walking into the bathroom, Marge looked into the mirror. "This is no longer who I want to be."
She flushed the toilet, and washed her hands of any residue.
"I want my family back."
