^Isabel^
Isabel POV
Stained cheeks, dripping mascara seemed to follow. Tears were an uncontrollable faucet dripping from vale green eyes. My black watery eyes drips staining an old-faint periwinkle nightgown that was pressed tightly against my body. My lovely mother sitting uncomfortable next me on my once unstained bed, carefully strokes my brown knotted curls.
Her awkwardness reflects her as a mother: she's forgetful, disceiving, but gentle.
"Look at me mi amor." Her voice so faint it's almost ghostly. I turn my head, followed by it's locks with great pain. Her stiletto vividly orange acrylics gripped my face in a jarring way, rising my head tall and proud.
"Usted esta, Isabel Rosalinda Verena Silva."
"Just because you say my name, doesn't mean anything." I sobbed quietly. Swiftly, using her left sleeve my mother wiped my stained cheeks.
"You should be happy!" She roared with disgust, "Your getting out of the damn ghetto mi amor, you're leaving this town!" Her eyes pierced with rage, maybe even jealousy.
"I'm leaving everything behind! I'm leaving You, José, and papa who just got back from prison 6 months ago!" I ranted with pity.
"Your father is a leech! Your brother is gonna end up dying on these streets, AND YOU WANT TO STAY?!!" Steam was pouring from the roots of her hair, while her mouth poured fuming fury. "FINE STAY! MATTER OF FACT, GET KNOCKED UP!"
Tears flooded her face. "Because I-I-I w-won't be here to watch." It was hard to watch my mother stutter in pain, even if we've had differences.
"What happened to that smile you used to carry? Telling us everything will be alright? What happened to putting your kids first?" I knew I overstepped, her facial expression said it all. Was it rage? Or desperation? Or is it failure?
My mother never understood me, she always said I have it so much easier than her. But she made her life the way it is, I'm scared to live that same life.
"That smile?" She laughed in fuming anger, "It was to keep you kids from seeing the harsh reality of life, from seeing you mother as a wench." Her voice croaked with pain, each word that laid upon her chapped lips sounded as if she was choking.
Should I have hugged her? Should she have hugged me? We don't even understand how to comfort each other without spreading pain. Pain of despair and depression that's been floating for countless years.
"This neighborhood does something to you, it molds you into someone you don't want to be." Her voice now suppressed, barely even a whisper. Her face still emotionless like her body, stiff like a steel wall. A steel wall is cold, strong but deceiving to me; everything is still breakable. That wall can still bend with a tool.
"You think I wanted you guys to live the life you do? Eating spam, Ramon noodles and 50 cent bags of chips everyday!" She interrupted my thinking.
"Drinking tap water, and having fried chicken on Tuesday's from Popeyes?" She is getting on my nerves a voice echoed in my head
"Just STOP!" I yelled at her in annoyance.
"Your not making anyone feel bad! All those men that came in this house, you could have used that money on us. You could have bought us school supplies instead of getting your hair done." I continued.
Taking a deep breath. "You could have been a better madre but you decided not to, you decided to make yourself better." My breathing felt heavier afterwards, I could barely take a breath in between words.
YOU ARE READING
Only Memories Left
FantasyIsabel is a getting a second chance at life when getting accepted to NYU, nobody ever leaves the ghetto. Her fears of never leaving become true when her brother leaves her for dead in a car accident. His lifestyle put Isabel at risk when she ends up...
