The Dog Project

Chapter. 1

Mavis's p.o.v
~~~~•••~~~~
This morning I woke up ready to face the day. I had hyped myself up last night and given myself a whole pep talk. I know Im weird. Today... is the the day I tell my mother that I'm ... pan. I know my mother is a very kind hearted and accepting person but all these 'what ifs' kept crawling into my head, so I never told her but today...today is the day.
I'd gotten a little dressy but not too dressy, I didn't want to make it noticeable. I wore a blue and black flannel shirt with black skinny jeans that had a single blue stripe run down each side along with blue and black converse high tops.
I slowly but surely made my way down the steps to the kitchen where my mother was making chocolate cake batter pancakes. I know my mother is fucking amazing. It's was as if she knew today was a big day. She had an entire spread set out. She had already made cornbread, cheese grits, bacon, hot links, eggs with extra pepper and my absolute favorite mini moose track smoothies. GOD I LOVE HER. and just in case you were wondering how my beloved mother was able to make and properly season all this delicious food, she was adopted by a black family when she was eight they started teaching her IMMEDIATELY.
Yes I have black family and their fucking great. Where else do you think I got my rhythm. They saved me from the world of basic white people and for that I am forever grateful. I walked up to my mother and began assisting her with the rest of breakfast. I set the table, brought out the condiments and helped her carry the serving plates to the table. Moments later my father joined us and began eating immediately after sitting down. He hadn't even spoken a word to us and I've been noticing that lately he does that a lot. He used to sing good morning as he walked into the kitchen and kiss us both on the head but now it's like he doesn't even want to be here, like he didn't raise a family here, like he doesn't want us anymore.
It's tense.
I try to lighten the mood.
"So mom, what's the spread for?"
I say in a cheery voice.
"It's a waste, you know that, why did you make this much in the first place? "
I no longer consider this man to be my father.
He had the nerve- NO the AUDACITY to berate my mother for making all this food with her heart and soul when the first thing he did when he came down here was start stuffing his fuckin face after not even bothering with a FUCKING HELLO.
Needless to say I wanted to floor that bitch.
"Well sweetie, I just woke up today and felt like something really special was going to happen, I just felt like celebrating a little. "
did I mention I LOVE HER.
"A LITTLE-"
This bitch.
"Half the house is on the table right now and for what- Because you felt like CELEBRATING!?!?! ITS NOT FUCKING CHRISTMAS SHERAN!!!"
"...I'm sorry..."
Her voice was so small you could barely hear it. She sounded so hurt and I knew she was. Her head was down, her beautiful strawberry blonde hair elegantly slid down the sides of her face until she was obscured from view. my sperm donor couldn't see her face but I could. I watched in complete horror as a single hot tear slid down her cheek.
I wanted him dead.
"DAD-"
I had to spit the word. It tasted like acid.
"Why would you- the least you could say is thank you!!! She made all of this because she loves us. How could you treat her like that!?!?"
"SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH BOY, I WONT TOLERATE YOU SPEAKING TO ME LIKE YOUR ALL HOT SHIT!!!"
"I WONT TOLERATE YOU TREATING MY MOTHER LIKE SHIT!!!!!"
"Mavis..."
She didn't have to yell or say it more than once, I knew better than to piss off my mother. Once again for those who forgot... she was raised by black people.
"Get your things and go to school..."
I vanished from that table.
You know you in trouble when they hit you with that whisper. Why is it scarier when their not yelling?
AN:
Word count
758 words
If the count drops past 600 feel free to roast the fuck outta me.