Tomorrow

Chapter Five: From The Past

Chapter Five

                "So, you want me to just tell her everything I feel, right to her face?" I ask the woman who was holding my mother's therapy session today. I walked into the middle of it, not knowing my mother's new schedule, and a woman with a nice, heart-shaped face was sitting next to her. She invited me in, telling me to sit down on the loveseat opposite them. She then told me to be honest and blunt with my mother, saying every single thing I've ever thought about her.

                "Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do," she says softly, smiling at me. When I hesitate, she raises her eyebrows at me as if to say "come on."

                Taking a deep breath and looking down, I open up my usually locked shut and sealed tight box of emotions. Memories, words, promises, and especially feelings all bubble up to the surface. "Okay." One more breath. "I hate you," I say before I've really thought about it.

                Nothing. My mother's face is completely vague, as if she didn't hear me. As if she's off in another world of some sorts. It wouldn't be the first time. The woman clears her throat and then says, "Why do you hate her, Holly?"

                I have to think about this. "Because she was selfish. My father and her didn't care about me and Nick when they did what they did. They didn't think about how it would affect us. What they did was unforgivable."

                "Your mother had a mental illness, Holly," the woman reminds me.

                "She should've gotten it taken care of before she had me," I say sourly, looking at my nails. I suddenly get the feeling of being watched and I slowly raise my vision to my mother. Sure enough, she was looking right at me in this strange way. I glance at the woman and I see she's looking at my mother as well.

                There were a few moments of stillness before something miraculous happened. My mother spoke. "Hi," she said to me.

                At first, I think that I must be dreaming. I can't believe it. After blinking a few times, I realize that this is really happening and I have to fight back tears. This was the first time she's spoken to me since the day at the lake so many years ago. "Hi," I respond, my voice breaking.

                "This is a nice little room, right?" she says, looking around at our surroundings.

                "Yeah," I say, biting my lip. "It is."

                "You have beautiful hair," she said to me, rising from her seat on the couch in front of me and coming to take her place so close to me. Her arm brushed mine and I shivered at its warmth, so glad to be having this breakthrough with my mother. She runs her hands through my hair, twisting it at the bottom.

                "Thank you," is all I can manage. I look down at my hair as my mother starts braiding it. We sit there for what must have been an hour, her braiding my hair. But not a single word was said.