Recently Adjacent

RA 16: Bad Grade (Part 2 out of 2)

My mom grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to the edge of my bed.

When I don't get the grades that she expects, she gets a little vicious. But, whose parents don't?

She's spanked me, uninvited me to family gatherings, and grounded me for several months before. As a child, that is the worst thing that could ever happen to you in your eyes. But when the child gets older, parents tend to upgrade the punishments and make them more severe or they hit us where they know it'll really hurt.

She did that to me that day and if not for it, my life would be completely different today.

I had no idea what she was planning on doing at the time. All I knew was that I wanted to get it all over with quickly.

I stopped thrashing on the floor so as to not bring further trouble to myself.

It was difficult not to resist as she pulled me by my hair. It hurt like hell!

"Please. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I said as calmly as I could while pulling my hair back just a bit.

"No. I don't trust you. Of course it will happen again. You're too worried about your hair and fashion that you don't focus on your grades."

She turned around and revealed some really big, really sharp scissors - my scissors.

I immediately shivered at the look on her face. It was determined.

I knew what she was thinking, but I begged her not to. When she didn't listen, I tried to make a run for it, but she pulled me back down.

"No!" I yelled. "You can ground me for years! You can spank me all you want! You can even cut my face, just please leave my hair alone." I said with a cherry red face. I could tell it was swollen because I could barely see anything through my tearful eyes - especially not my mom. I saw a stranger with absolutely no soul and it ruined me. She wouldn't do anything else to me. She didn't have to. All she had to do was cut my locks and I'd be over.

"What's with all the crying?!" I heard my dad when he stepped into the door with my older sister. I guessed she called him.

All I could hear after that was the snipping of my hair. I didn't want to turn around and look. I would be too hurt by the sight.

One by one, the locks that took me years to grow out (to my popliteal region to be exact) fell to my carpet around me.

Knowing there was nothing else I could do, I sat there and wrapped my arms around myself as my dad and sister watched my mom cut my hair. I even stopped crying.

At what I assumed to be the final snip, my mom took a deep breath and stood up. She walked to the front of me and looked at my pitiful form. I was defeated.

"You look good," she said as she rid her forehead of all the perspiration.

"Don't look so sad. You look fine," Dad told me with the softest voice possible.

I didn't make the effort to look up at my three family members as they stared at me.

"I want you to clean this up and brush your hair in the morning," she said as she walked up to me and kissed my forehead.
"I love you."

I sat in silence.

"I said I love you," she repeated with a threatening tone.

I decided to respond even though it threatened a relapse. "I love you too." My voice cracked a bit toward the end.

When my door closed I unfolded myself and locked the door. When I picked up my fallen soldiers, I came across that stupid test. I immediately felt the urge to throw it away, but instead I decided to tape it to my wall and use it as a reminder to do better.