Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
And being alone doesn’t help. On a Saturday night, Luce and I usually hang out together, but she’s busy with her new witch coven. I tried to distract myself by studying, but I really suck at preparing for exams in advance. I only excel when I study the day of.
Netflix also wasn’t much help, but hey, true crime shows are better than overthinking everything.
So I put on shorts and my comfy hoodie and lay my fuzzy blanket on the sofa, then go to the kitchen for my ammunition. Soda, chips, nuts, and everything that would cause Brianna and her minions to have a stroke if they saw me consuming it.
The scent of smoke is my only warning of Mom’s presence as she steps through the kitchen’s sliding doors with a phone at her ear and a half-burnt cigarette in her fingers.
She must’ve not noticed I’m here, because she doesn’t raise her head as she speaks in Japanese. And while I’m not the best at writing it, I understand and speak it perfectly. “I told you not to call me anymore.”
There’s silence before she continues, “That was a long time ago. When are you going to stop accusing me of that?”
More silence, then Mom takes a long drag, the burn visible on the cigarette. The longer she listens, the harder her limbs physically shake as she shouts, “I said, no!”
And with that, she hangs up, bringing the cigarette to her trembling lips. She seems weaker lately and she’s lost weight. Her job is definitely sucking her life away at this point.
“A clingy ex?” I joke.
Mom’s head rears up and she coughs, her breath catching. “Nao. How long have you been there?”
“Since the beginning.” I finger the items on the tray to keep my hands busy. “Who was it?”
She throws up a dismissive hand. “No one you should worry about.”
“Just like I shouldn’t worry about my father or my family?”
“You don’t have a father. As for your family, they kicked me out when I was pregnant with you, so I’m the only family you have.”
“You’re just saying that to guilt-trip me.”
“I’m saying that so you’ll stop having naive dreams. We only have each other.”
“I also have a father somewhere. You just refuse to tell me where he is.”
She steps closer, stubbing her cigarette on the edge of the sink as her eyes glisten with moisture. “I’m the one who faced social discrimination and did my best to give you a comfortable life. I’m the one who works day in and day out so no one looks down on you. What did your father do in all of that?”
“I wouldn’t know, because you won’t tell me.”
“I’m protecting you.”
“Just like you protected me from your boyfriend when I was nine years old? If Dad were here, that would’ve never happened!”
She raises her palm and strikes me across the face so hard, I reel from the shock of it. Mom doesn’t hit me. Ever. And the surprise on her face matches my own as burning tears roll down my cheeks.
Her violet-painted lips shake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Forget it.”
“I…told you to never bring that up again. It’s all behind us now. I stopped dating and cut off my social life to take care of you.”
“I never asked you to! All I ever wanted was my father and you never gave me that.”
“And I never will.” She sniffles, her expression hardening. “Stop being a baby and grow up.”
I want to tell her that I’ve been a grownup since that night twelve years ago. That I figuratively lost my innocence and she wasn’t there for me.
I want to scream that I hate everything she’s done since then. That I hate her sometimes. But that will only make me an emotional mess and I don’t know how to deal with that.
My relationship with Mom has been on and off for twelve years now and I don’t think it’ll ever get better. I should’ve moved out when I graduated high school, but one drunken night, she begged me not to go, said she couldn’t imagine her life without me, so I caved in and stayed.
And for what?
Nothing changed. If anything, she’s gotten busier with each passing year.
I’m definitely moving out after college ends. I’ll go to Japan and put some distance between us. Maybe that’s what we needed all along. A break from each other.
The doorbell rings and Mom wipes her eyes and goes to answer it.
Using the sleeve of my hoodie, I rub at my eyes to make the evidence of my weakness disappear. We’re the same in that way, Mom and I. We hate showing our emotions to the outside world and actively close down whenever there’s a chance.
Grabbing my tray of goodies, I head to the living room but freeze when I hear a very familiar rumbling voice.