Empty Closet

Untitled Part 1

   "I. WON'T. GO. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME. THIS ISN'T FAIR." I grip my long blonde hair with my shaky fingers and collapse onto the dingy carpet. The warped walls begin to close in on me making the room feel even smaller. This shit hole is my home, my life. I gasp, my chest tightens, I fight for air.

Pause, rewind...

I'm not a crazy person seriously. I'm Betsy Butler a normal seventeen-year-old. I am trust me, you'll see. I have what everyone calls natural beauty. I'm not exactly sure what that even means, I just go with it. I'd have to say my eyes are my best feature. Big, but not too big, hazel green with thick black lashes that brush my eyebrows. I get them from my mom, Carrie. I was a later bloomer, but ultimately when I fit into a 34C it was well worth the wait.

"Why mom," hushes over my quivering lips. My face falls to my waiting hands. My body trembling. My eyes burn from crying for hours. I'm pretty sure I have no fluids left in my eyes and it really hurts to cry without tears.

Pressing up onto my feet I gaze out one of the plastic windows in our living room. I can't make out clearly what's outside the fake windows, I relay on memory to see the low-rent trailer park we live in. This dirty trailer park community is my home though. No, we can't go outside after dark. Yes, there's gang members everywhere, but I've grown use to all of that.

I stomp my feet in a halfhearted tantrum, flop onto my back and stare up at the yellow ceiling tiles, rubbing my temples. Mom has been more concerned recently about my future. She's constantly reminding me, 'Betsy you have to get a better education than what you get at your school.' My mom has made it very clear to me since pre-k that I will attend Cornell or any top name college. That way I'm ensured to have a prestigious career. She reminds me daily also that, 'no daughter of mine is going to wait tables and worry about money like I always have.' I do by the way get straight A's.

I exhale, roll up onto my elbow, a photo of my mom, aunt and uncle from college catches my attention. This picture has sat on the T.V. stand covered in dust for as long as I can remember. It's also always peeked my interest, I zoom in on it. My uncle has his arms wrapped around mom's chest. She's staring up at him, he has the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face. He never smiles from what I remember of him. My aunt is simply smiling at the camera.

Anyway, as a child I spent my summers in Lake Mills, Iowa with my mom's sister Cathy Wolf and her family. Cathy's a few years older than my mom. She's one of those house wives with too much time on her hands. She's extremely nice and caring but will brush away important things by saying something funny or changing the subject. Basically, she doesn't like confrontations and will do anything to avoid it. Duke her husband is a CEO or something for an insurance company. Their daughter Dior and I are around the same age. I can only explain Dior has nonstop energy, like a windup toy that never stops talking or moving. She's always dressed to perfection, even as a child.

It's been two years since I've visited them, and that summer Dior was never around. She was off chasing every guy she saw. Normal teenage hormonal thing I guess, but not for me. That was the visit when I realized I wanted to stay home during the summers. Like I just said it's been two years since I visited them, and my mother just informed me that I'd be going back as soon as school ends.

"Are you kidding me. Mom this isn't fair?" I whimper, "I already have my summer planed out. Plus, I told you Josh asked me out." Well, that's probably what pushed her over the edge. Josh is a very misunderstood guy. Yeah, he has a baby. Yes, his ex-girlfriend threatens me every day. And yes, Josh dropped out of school. OK, hindsight hit while saying that, this is absolutely what pushed her over the edge. Apparently though she and my aunt have very different plans for me that included a little more than the summer.

Release the pause button....

Mom wrings her hands together, squeezes her eyes shut and exhales deeply. "We feel..."

"Who's we?" I interrupt, crossing my arms over my chest. I glare at her waiting for an answer. My entire live has been her and I, my dad left before I was born. Mom doesn't talk about him and over time I simply stopped asking or caring. I'm curious and still waiting on who she's referring to when she said, 'we'. Rapidly tapping my foot my eyes narrow at her.

Mom rubs her red eyes and exhales. "Betsy you'll have much better opportunity's and achieve more by finishing school with your aunt." Her shoulders drop, she can barely look at me.

"What...Great now all of a sudden Cathy thinks she know what's best for me. Tell me this is not really happening." I take a few steps, pivot and take a few more. This is getting worse and worse by the minute.

"Betsy." Mom's voice is soft and quiet.

I push my flat palm towards her, "No." My voice comes out high and hysterical, "I. AM. NOT. MOVING. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO." I throw my hands in the air. At this point I'm no longer pacing I'm spinning in circles. Our small T.V. comes in and out of focus, making me nausea. I stop moving and lock eyes with my mom. "Did I do something to upset you? Do you not want me anymore? This is my home, my life, my school, you. I can't do this." With each word my voice fades more and more, "I won't go out with Josh if that's what this is about." Tears have commenced running down my face. I guess tear ducts can quickly recover and make more. I side my hand over my cheeks but give up there's too many. Mom tugs my arm guiding me onto our worn-out love seat. I place my head on her shoulder staring at a photo of her and I. She's so carefree in the photo, not tried and stressed out like looks lately. Now I feel like I'm the cause of all her stress, I exhale and squint up at her.

Mom takes my hand tightly in hers. "Betsy, my baby girl you've done nothing wrong." She dips her head down so we are eye to eye. "You are perfect and that's how I want you to stay. My sister can provide guidance for you through your last year of high school and help you get into a great college. I have no idea how to even begin helping you with any of that." She studies my face, opens her mouth then shuts it, sighing heavily.

With gummy eyelids I glance up, "mom, I don't think I'm strong enough to do this. How do I live away from you? I'm afraid." She wraps her arm around my shaking shoulder, while I cry until my eyes are dry again and mental exhaustion put me to sleep.