Chapter Five: From The Past

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                When she finally finishes doing some sort of French Braid she half-smiles at me and puts her hand on my head almost as if she's petting me. I feel as if something needs to be said, anything to make this moment tangible, memorable; something I can keep away in my happy thoughts. "It's very pretty," I say, speaking of my braid.

                "Thank you," she says, lightly thumbing the intricate tail of my hair. "My friend and I used to practice them all the time when we were little. I used to do her hair and nails and she did the same for me. We always teased Bren-" Out of the blue, she drops her hands and stares at the window. Blankness replaces the light glimmer in her eye.

                And once again, I lose my mother.

                How could I be so stupid? Of course she wouldn't come back to me. Any sort of reminder of everything that's traumatized her would send her spinning back into the abyss of depression. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Most people lose their parent's protective hold and grow up the first year after high school. But I had to learn to bite my lip, lower my head, and guard my thoughts when I was seven. I hadn't even gone through puberty, mind you.               

                For a little bit, I just stare at her. Tears prick my eyes and throat, but I fight them back. That's the last thing she needs right now. What I do is grab her hand and squeeze it tightly, silently willing her to crawl out of whatever deep hole she was in and come back to me. I need her.

                The psychiatrist clears her throat. I slowly turn my head to look at her, and she was smiling at me sadly, her glasses glaring from the winter sunlight coming in through the window. "Are you all right?" she asked, turning her head to the left in sympathy.

                I swallow and raise my shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say reflexively. I take one more look at my mother and slowly pull my hands away. Then, I rise and I hear the psychiatrist rise as well. I make my way to the door, and open it. Before I step out, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see the good-natured, heart-shaped face of the woman that now takes care of my mother.

                "I know this must be hard for you," she said.

                I want to laugh, but I just nod. "Sometimes," I agree. And truthfully, it is. There are times when I just about quit my job and put my loft up for sale because I want to leave this place and everything it held. But what holsd me here is this irrevocable sense of responsibility I have towards my parents. I can't leave them. I just can't. Almost like I'm the parent and they were my kids and not vice-versa.

                "I haven't had the best life either," the woman divulges. She takes on "the stance" which is what I call the posture and look people get whenever they're about to reveal something very personal. I don't even know this lady too well, and I begin to feel uncomfortable. "When I was younger, I was in a very abusive relationship." I blink twice and she continues. "Yeah, my parents disowned me because they found out I was pregnant. My boyfriend left me. Pretty soon I had no job either. I was living out of my car, until they took that too. It got to the point-"

                "Um," I interrupt, feeling bothered  and completely wrong in this situation. "I've got to go see my dad. But I'll come back here next week! Okay?"

                "Okay," the woman says, confused.

                "Thank you!" I turn to leave, but at the last second I spin on my heel and faced her again. "Sorry. I didn't catch your name. What is it?"

                "Andrea," she replied, smiling at me. And then it clicked. I stand there, mouth gaping, and I see the teeth on the corner of her mouth look like fangs. Her eyes narrow and she closes the door, leaving me there.

                This can't honestly be happening.

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Hahah.

Anyway, sorry for taking so long to update. School is hectic! I've got a creative writing class, so I'll try to see if I can get some of this and Violent Hour done.

Thanks for reading this you guys. :') You're the best. And I PROMISE an update next week!

Daniela xx

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