Ages of HipHop

Headaches

"Mom, Dad, I'm home," I say to the echoing halls of the apartment.

"Ugh," I heard, "Don't talk so loud..... drinking shouldn't come with headaches....."

Dad.

"Why do you drink if it gives you headaches?" I asked.

"It relieves stress," my mom replies, half falling over on the walls.

"You could do something else besides drinking that can help with stress relief," I add, "Like, I don't know, dancing!"

My mom glares at me, but my dad gives me a reassuring smile.

"Dancing is an illogical thing to do!" Mom shouts, "All you're doing is repeating the same things over and over again! Who finds that fun?!"

"Who finds drinking 'til you're sick fun?" I retorted.

Dad gives my mom a "Oh snap!" look and it makes me smirk.

"She told you hon," he said, holding his head to stop his headache.

I swear, I wish it was only me and my dad. Mom was the one that got Dad into his drinking problem. One day he has a bad day and the next he becomes an alcoholic. I just want that old dad back. It was enough having a mom that only cared for her alcohol more than you.

"Hush up you!" she said in a less intense tone. Mom sends me another glare and sways as she makes her way to her room.

I sigh and look at Dad. He looks at me with those "I'm sorry" eyes. I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, but I just run into my room and shut the door behind me. I lie down on the bed and stare at my star filled ceiling. They were the only things that actually brought out the room, aside from all the posters.

The walls were a blank white and they were covered in posters from cities I've competed in. LA, NYC, Chicago, Phili, you name it, I've been there. I've never actually lived in a city; I've just visited them for contests. It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be, but I still miss the spacious area of the house.

I decided to try to do the dance that we did in LA, which was for Trap Queen. 

*Video Above*

I go to the most emptiest place in my room, which was in front of my bed, and start slowly remembering the dance. I started to do it slow, but then I forgot that I didn't have my music on. I put my phone in my short's pocket and put on my headphones. I put on Trap Queen and automatically I remember the floor shaking beneath my feet on stage.

I started doing my part of the dance, and OMG I forgot I forgot how much fun I had doing this dance. I remember always failing at one part and everyone would laugh as I became less and less clumsy. Trap Queen WAS the first song I danced to, on stage, so I was pretty clumsy. Now I'm better than the lead girl dancer.

I started to dance better than I was on my own dance I did earlier today. I felt the bass ring in my ears and my feet making every move as the bass dropped.

I the heard my door knocking, so I turned of my music and opened the door to my mom.

"I heard your dancing," She said.

"I'm sorry," I replied, feeling guilty for even turning on the music, "I just-"

"No," she cut off, "I'm sorry for saying dancing was stupid. You get dancing from me."

I looked at her confused.

"You used to dance?" I asked, letting her into my room.

"Yup," she answered, sitting on my bed, "In fact, I used to dance to relieve my anxiety problems. I had a horrible anxiety disorder."

"I...... didn't know that about you."

"Not even your father knows that about me," she said, putting her hand to her forehead, "I turned to alcohol when my dad threw my music away. I got so much anxiety that I ended up running away and drinking. They found me when I was 23, but I was already an alcoholic."

My eyes widened.

"Why didn't you ever tell me this story before?" I ask, sitting beside her.

"I never found the right moment to tell you," she sighed, "But I wish I told you sooner."

I smile and give my mom and big hug.

I always wanted my mom to be like this.