My Double Life

|| 17 || Outcast

WARNING: This chapter contains more swearing than my chapters usually do. It's just to make it a little more realistic.

“Mum?” With a slight tap, the door creaks open on its hinges. The condition of my room is not how I left it. I turn around to see my mother behind me, her shoulders hunched over and her eyes raging with fury. My eyes drift away, a guilt and fear sinking within me, as I cast my eyes upon my room. It looks like a murder scene, red makeup splattered on the walls, clothes strewn all over the carpet, and pages torn up everywhere. “Mum, what did you do?” I glare back at her in horror.

“Oh, nothing, I just looked through all your secrets,” she hisses, the wrinkles on her forehead hardening. My fists clench along with my teeth. This can’t be happening. My mother, my corrupt, diabolical mother, obsessed with perfection, knows everything about me. That diary holds every detail of my life. She knows now how I feel about her and dad. My mother, of all people, has read my diary. But how did she get a hold of it in the first place? I certainly did not leave it at home. I know for a fact I left it at school.

“How did you get my diary?” My voice stays calm, very timid, and almost intimidated. My mother has outright control over my life.

“One of your supposed friends actually,” she slurs, her deceitful tone sending shocks through me, “a friend you betrayed. I never knew my second daughter would be a whore.”

My own mother, the woman who raised me, just insulted me in a way that could never be taken back.

Tears swell in my eyes, and I look up at the lanterns in my room to avoid crying. I mumble, full of shame, “What friend?”

“Oh, you should know. Wait, you wouldn’t. You probably stole guys from all your friends. You might as well be a hooker!” she ridicules, pushing me to the limit. The corners of her lips twist into a malevolent leer, revealing her stained, pale yellow teeth. “What was her name again? Was it Gemma Parker?”

“Emma Peters…”

“Yes! That’s the one! The blonde bimbo; no wonder you’re like this, you’re friends with a whiny slut like that!”

Yes, I stole a guy from Emma, but did she have to go to such lengths to destroy me? At the rate my mother’s going with the insults, I’ll be kicked out of the house. And Ashton, Emma didn’t own him. I press my lips together, hindering the loud sobs threatening to betray my strength. Still staring at the ceiling, I can feel myself nearly tremble and gag. My mother has no mercy. My mother has no forgiveness.

“I told you what you should and shouldn’t be!” Her voice augments, echoing in my doorway. “All my life I’ve wanted my daughters to become smart, polite, successful people. That’s why I’ve worked endlessly, that’s why I’ve torn you away from all those kind of people! I must be the worst human in the world to you! I know you hate me, and I know you blame for all your petty little problems! I never deserved any of your bullshit, Misty! And by the way, I did love your sister, but she had so much bullshit as well. Why couldn’t you be better than her? Why did you turn out worse than your prick of a sister, Evie?”

“Shut up, Mum!” I finally snap, after restraining all my emotions. “Do you know why we had so much bullshit? Because you never, ever let us be ourselves! Maybe Evie would still be alive if you didn’t pressure her into being you! Don’t you dare speak of my sister like that! If you really loved us, you’d have stopped putting all this fucking pressure on us!”

And with that, she strikes my face. Her hand’s impact sends me crashing into the frame of the door, then falling on a pile of books.

Her teeth gritted, she says, “I did not raise my daughter to say such a word.”