Hell On Earth

eight | i should go

I told my mother I wasn't going to meet her at Ashton's.
So right now, I'm sitting nervously in a corner of Starbucks, hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate too hot to drink right now.

Across from me is an empty chair.

At last, my parents walk through the door.

I want to crush my cup, and I almost do, at the sight of my father, but I hold back and compose myself.

My mom smiles at me before whispering to my father and he goes off to order her a drink. She takes the seat across from me. "Hey, Colina."
"Hi, Mom." My voice is hallow and cracked.
She takes one of my hands and wraps it into her own, noticing the faint bruises on my knuckles.
She's both a nurse and my mother.
Of course she notices.
She frowns. "What are these from? Do they hurt?"
"No, they don't, but I just had a little encounter with a punching bag, that's all."
She opens her mouth to ask more questions, but I shake my head. "I'm not elaborating."
"Honey, I'm sorry. It must feel like we're leaving you behind, but we just want to get back to the east coast. Daniel will be visiting us while we're there too."
I nod numbly. "I figured."
Daniel is my brother. He's currently at Northwestern University, as a sophomore there.
"Colina, I'm-"
"I know you're sorry. I just-" I stop.
"You just what?"
"I don't know, Mom."

My mother stands when my father comes over with her drink. "We need to leave soon, to finish packing." He says.
My fists clench, but I mange to hold it down.
Instead, I rise to give my mom a hug. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, honey."
I pull away.
She looks at me.

Green eyes.
The eye color I wish I'd gotten.

She cups my cheek and wipes away a stray tear.

I didn't even know I was crying.
"I should go."
Are the three words that start up a new fire that I can't douse, despite the cold outdoors and the most likely coming rain.
"Go ahead and leave me behind for my brother. I'll be here, waiting for the day you get sick of his perfection."
My mother's eyes widen. "Colina?"

My words are poison to expel.
And the only way I know how to get them out is through my equally venomous mouth.

I may never get the chance again.

"Daniel's the good child, the responsible one, the smart one, the handsome one. You always look after him. He's your firstborn, he's male, he's blond and tan and strong and smart and everything a mother could ever want. Perfect." I spat.
And in that moment, I felt my mother's heart break.
And I didn't care.

And that, more than anything I'd ever experienced in seventeen years, terrified me the most.

Like I thought, it starts to rain soon after my parents get in my father's car and drive off.
It's like the world is crying at our separation, mourning my words.
I can't say the same.
Inside is getting crowded with people seeking shelter from the rain for hot coffee and a space to work, so I take my drink outside to the patio barely sheltered from the cold, but under a roof.
It's just me and the rain.
It's kind of like an antidote for my poison.
I pull out my earbuds.
Spotify goes on shuffle.
Light by Sleeping At Last.