The Pictures We Paint/ #wattys2019

5

It was sweltering outside, polar opposite to the atmosphere at the breakfast table this morning.

I was being ignored.

"You sinful child sit up straight now," my mother hissed, spittle flying from her mouth. I straightened my back staring down at my plate.

Well not quite.

It was beginning, I could feel the anger boiling in my mother, the way she gripped her spoon till her knuckles turned white, her lips stretched into a pale, thin line. It was beginning.

I wondered if anyone here knew what it felt like to be pushed away, unwanted, to be reduced to nothing.
I wonder if they knew how secluded and isolated I felt. I wondered if they cared.

"What is wrong with you?" My mother places her utensils down and faces me, I sigh and crouch lower in my seat.

"I have toiled, I have work, I have sacrificed so much for you, this is how you thank me. This."

Being constantly exposed to that sort of abuse does something to a person. It plays with their mind till they reduce themselves to something smaller than they are. It makes them question their self worth, their meaning, their importance. Where they stand in this world.

"Now Sandra, compose yourself, I'm sure it won't happen again-" uncle Herbert began.

"Shut up Herbert," Mother snapped "I'm asking Amelia a simple question, now tell me child, what is wrong with you."

"Nothing mother."

To be rejected from your community, constantly told that your not worth much. That your voice doesn't matter, it never will. Do they know how it hurts? How it kills me every time?

"Oh but there is something wrong with you, tell us, what is it? A lose screw or two up there? Are you sick? Are you retarded? Are you mentally disabled? Tell me Amelia because I would love to know." She's screams.

I flinch and glance up at my family, no one meets my eye.

They don't. They don't know.

"No mother," I reply. " I'm fine."

"But you are not fine, you are an abomination, a fiend. You disgust me Amelia, you and your uninspired life.
What is it that you need? What else do you want from me, I have given up my life, my future to bring you in this world and all you do is disgrace me.
Why don't you ever listen, why don't you try Amelia, why don't you ever try? What is it that you need.
Do you want me to force feed you passion to succeed. I'm sick and tired of you. I'm so sick of you."

"Now Sandra, quiet down, the neighbours might hear." Gloria said patting my mother on the shoulder .

"And this isn't go for your health, shame on you Amelia for putting your mother in this situation," Aunt belle added.

"You can't be like this Amelia, you can't. Where your going you have to be better, you are a lady, a noble, you have to be perfect. I have set aside my life for you, I have sacrificed too much for you to be like this. You have to be perfect. You can't be this way, you have to listen, you have to obey, stop bringing shame to this family, and for heavens sake would you sit up straight!"

God dammit, my eyes where watering again, moisture coming from nowhere. I gulped down my tears and stared steely at my plate as my vision blurred.

"Why don't I tell her Sandra-" Uncle Herbert began.

"Tell me what?" I interjected.

"Well don't be upset now Amelia but as a family we have discussed that maybe it's time for you to make something of yourself huh?"