Just Give Me A Reason

Chapter 3: Parental Lock

      I rubbed my eyes as I walked through my front door,  with the energy level of a half asleep sloth. I hang my backpack by the front door, tossing my dirty track clothes down the laundry shoot. No homework today,  a small mercy for such a horrible day I'd had.

    I kick off my shoes and tug off my socks. I place my shoes by the door and drop my socks with the rest of my dirty laundry. I stand at the bottom of the stairs, clutching the railing. Everything I did always had to be with my parents approval, when did I draw the line? I mean I'm an adult now.  Pfft yeah sure doesn't feel that way, when just thinking of their disapproving faces makes my stomach churn.

Some birthday this turned out to be, though I don't know why I expected this year to be any different. It's always been this way, ever since I was seven years old, and became old enough to be by myself and to quote my father
  "Not keep us from our jobs and being famous."
    My phone rings in my pocket of my skirt. Slowly I pull it out, glaring at the screen. I doubt she was calling to wish me a happy birthday.

Call from mom...

I contemplate for a fraction of a second,  letting it go to voicemail, but my fear of my mother won over my stubbornness and I quickly answer on the fifth ring.

  "Monika why didn't you answer on the first ring?" She demands sharply and I take a deep breath. Don't snap Monika.  Don't say something to piss her off, just comply and the call will end soon.

  "I'm sorry mom, I just got home from sculpting class." I whisper and she grumbles bitterly  something, probably to my dad.

  "Don't make excuses Monika,  excuses are for the ugly and poor. You're too rich and pretty for them. Next time I don't care if you're being held at gunpoint, answer on the first ring." She orders and I pinch the bridge of my nose. Yeah nice talking to you too mom. Happy birthday why thank you for remembering,  oh I love you too mom.

  "I'm sorry I'll be better next time. " I mutter instead, because let's face it today had been a long day.
   "Life isn't full of second chances Monika, but I'll give you this, this time since it's your birthday and whatever. " she muttered as if I bored her. I felt like throwing my phone across the room. My hands were shaking and I was struggling with keeping emotions from my voice. "But next time if you don't answer I'll expect a seven page apology letter am I understood Monika?" She demanded sharply.

  "Yes ma'am." I whisper quickly with no emotion. Honestly it was almost eleven thirty,  I was tired and kindof wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep. And  maybe cry a little till I fell asleep. I mean I had to be up by four again. I still needed some sleep. Normal human beings sleep more than four hours or less.

  "Don't be a smartass Monika,  girls don't have smart mouths, they are ladies, they're poised and sweet little dolls.  Am I understood?" She demanded and I swallowed my anger.
   "Yes mom. I understand. " I murmur starting up the stairs, willing her to hang up the phone.

  "This Sunday,  you're starting violin lessons, a friend of mine's daughter is taking them, you need to be more well rounded. Class starts later than you are used to. So like six thirty a.m. Also your dad wants you to take archery lessons.  So you'll be doing that around nine Sunday..."
  "Mom Sundays are my free days.." I interject  softly, feeling anxious at the prospect of losing the one day I get to be myself, and she scoffs bitterly.

  "Don't you ever back talk me, you don't need a free day, do you want to be a joke,  a loser? Be realistic Monika if you ever want to be successful then sacrifices must be made.
Alright that's all I wanted to call you for. Bye " the phone clicked off and I just stood there at the top of the stairs, frozen in place. The grandfather clock ticks softly in the hallway,  and with each tick I lose  a little more and a little more of my dignity.

   "I hate you!" I screamed at the ended call and dropped to my knees. Why was nothing I did good enough? Why was I never good enough? I sobbed into my knees as I rocked back and forth in the hallway. 

They've taken my Sundays,  they didn't wish me a happy birthday. They don't care about my feelings or what I want...

They never care about what I want! My needs. They only are about their stupid reputations and popularity.

Things are so overwhelming it's suffocating me. I feel like someone's dropped a bowling ball on my chest.

The don't care about their own daughter.
Not about their only daughter. The daughter, who they only had to look better.  I sniff rubbing my eyes as I stare at the wall bitterly, at the picture of me when I was little smiling happily between my parents.

I threw it off the wall, feeling satisfied when it shattered against the adjacent wall.  I glared at the broken glass and the picture of lying smiles.

Did pretty little rich girls break things in a rage?

Who knows, who cares?

Because pissed off eighteen year old Monika Salvato did.

I couldn't sleep, I kept tossing and turning like a hot dog on a turntable at some gas station.
I ended up ordering the book that girl suggested, on Amazon. But after than I just  sat up, too restless to sleep. I paced my room, typed out messages to my mom, really really hateful messages to my mom, before I deleted them and Continued pacing.

  Around two o'clock I slumped against my bed, ready to wait out the two hours till I usually woke up.

Instead I slipped into a restless slumber.

To Be Continued.