Nibbling my fingernails, I felt more anxious and nervous as the clock kept ticking. My knee wouldn't stop shaking due to my nerves and anxiety, I could feel my mother throwing me glares here and there as she spoke with Dr. Cooper.
It's funny that I'm sitting in a therapy office with my mother when I'm near to reaching my twenties; it's funny that I still live with my parents. When most people my age have moved out and are living their life while I'm stuck trying to be perfect and good enough for my mother's approval and have my father stay in the picture.
"What do you want me to do exactly?" Mother asked, crossing her arms. I shifted my gaze to something else, hoping my mind could be at ease. But my mind is never at ease knowing that my mother hates my guts, knowing my father is a gambling man who lives off liquor. My mind is always on edge knowing my life hasn't turned out how I hoped it would, "Mrs. Perez, Lizbeth has been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, PTSD, and not to mention all the signs point to Bulimia Nervosa. She needs to be in rehabilitation for her Bulimia, which needs to be taken care of before it gets worse." Dr. Cooper said. Bulimia, a new diagnosis and a solution for it.
Two reasons, of course, caused all my diagnoses. Most would say it's never your parent's fault, but in this case, it is their fault. If it weren't for their negligence and obsession with perfection, I mightn't be the way I am now. Dr. Cooper looks at my mother, "Mrs. Perez, have you ever noticed any strange behavior from Lizbeth? Any anger issues?" She asked. I look at Dr. Cooper. Did she catch on?
I feel my heart pounding against my ribcage; my mother furrowed her brows in confusion. "Why do you ask?" My mother questions and Dr. Cooper fixes her glasses. "Your daughter's physical shows she's been consuming alcohol, and it shows that this has been going on for three months." Dr. Cooper said, showing my mother a file. I bite my lip and feel my mother's hand collide with my cheek; Dr. Cooper rises to her feet. "Mrs. Perez, please refrain from using physical violence against Lizbeth," Dr. Cooper warns. Tears were pooling in my eyes as my mother began to ask questions: where did you get the alcohol? Who have you been hanging out with? Was it your friends?
I was tired, exhausted as I sat there, letting my mind swirl in the pool of endless doubts and darkness. Dr. Cooper's and my mother's voices were muffled; I had found myself blocking out any noise and letting the dark thoughts consume me.
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My cries were pointless as my mother lets her anger out, "You better tell Dr. Cooper that it was a lie!" Mother's voice filled with such rage. I get on my knees and beg her to believe me, "You're willing to ruin the family! Why couldn't you just kept your mouth shut!" the belt made a harsh impact on my skin as I cried and beg once more. "It's your fault! You should've known better!" Her words were pouring salt into the wounds; I shake my head. "Speak! Why aren't you talking!?! Huh!?! You'd rather tell a stranger about our problems!!" Her hand collided with my cheek twice. "I was only eight!! How is it my fault!" I cried, but I guess voicing my truth only made things worse.
A gasp escapes my lips as mother wraps her hand around my neck, "LIZBETH! You disgraceful little bitch! You'll tear this family apart if you continue with this shit! You'll become the family's bad seed!! Is that what you want!!?" her rage fanned my face. Tears spilling uncontrollably, "Because if that's the case, you will no longer be considered family! You will be living on the streets from the moment you continue your little act." Mother said through gritted teeth. I bite my lip, "Mommy! Lizzy!" Dylan called out from the top of the stairs. Mother's grip was gone; I wipe away my tears as I got up from the floor.
I walk into the kitchen and turn the faucet on, "Dylan, sweetie, what are you doing up so early?" Mother's voice was sweet and tender as she cooed Dylan. I wash the dishes, acting as if I wasn't just beaten and choked. College preparation starts within a month, so I need to be quick about this. Even if it kills me and pains me that I have to leave Dylan behind, I can't keep up with this. If I do, I'll end up being driven to the cliff.
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POMEGRANATES AND TULIPS: Book 2 (Jeon Wonwoo)
FanfictionMoving to Seoul was an escapism to get away from the past, wanting nothing more than a fresh start for the upcoming new year. Perhaps moving out was a good idea after all; new friends and college studies going steady. But somehow, I'm still trapped...
