Some People Change (Currently Editing)

Chapter Twelve

The next day, nothing really much happened in school. Except in language arts. We were having a test next week, and we spent the entire class period studying for it. The test was just a simple vocabulary test, but still.

Freddy and I studied together when we got home, too. We studied until we memorized each word, its part of speech, and its definition. Then, we didn’t have any more homework. So, Freddy and I went into her room to talk.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“It might be painful to talk about.” 

“You want to know what my story is.”

“Yeah. If that’s not too much to ask.”

“You told me about you when I wanted to know. So, it’s only fair to do the same in return.”

“Thank you.”

“I had a pretty normal life until I was five. My dad was killed in a car accident.”

“Oh, Freddy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We weren’t close or anything, but it still hurt, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, about a month afterwards, my mom started drinking. It wasn’t bad at first, but then she started acting really, really weird. She’d forget things, and she was really irritable. One day, she even forgot to pick me up from school. I had to walk three miles back home. She got a lot like you said your mom was. It was almost unbearable to be around her.

“And then suddenly, she just stopped. I thought she was secretly going to rehab or something, but she actually found a guy. It was just one of her coworkers. My mom brought him home for a date one night, but they didn’t really have anything in common. I’m glad. He wasn’t a very nice guy.

“My mom kept bringing more and more guys home each week. But they never lasted. And a year and who knows how many men later, I realized my mom was desperate. She was desperate for any man’s attention. I just wasn’t enough for her.”

“That’s exactly how I felt with my mother,” I said.

“My mom kept doing that, and then just like with the drinking, it all suddenly stopped. I asked her why, and all she said was that she had found another way to deal with her pain. I didn’t realize it was drugs. I saw her doing heroin once. I was so disgusted by it.

“She did it for almost three months before I finally called the police. I was petrified that she would get violent or something. And so then, my mom was sent to prison for the exact same reason your mom was. 

“I bounced around the system for a few years. I went through three foster homes and two temporary shelters before I finally came here.” Freddy finished her story by drawing in a long breath and then letting it back out.

“I never had the guts to the call the police,” I said.

“Well, I didn’t have an abusive and evil stepdad standing in my way,” Freddy answered.

I laughed softly once.

“True. I guess my mom and Tom are where they belong.”

“I guess my mom is, too. But, she should be getting out of prison soon, and it’ll take some time, but I hope to return to her care one of these days.”

“Why?”

“You may think that I’m crazy, but after all these years, and everything she’s done to me, I still love my mom.”