Marianne's stomach ached from the toss and turn of her mother's beat-down Chevrolet as they steered through the hills of Aspen, Colorado. Her head leaned on the shaky window, the vibration of it supplying her with a proper headache.
"Now, Mari, when we get there I don't wan' you givin' him the cold shoulda'," her mother glared through the rear-view mirror. "He's still ya' fatha'."
Mari's eyes stayed trained on the passing surroundings and followed the steadily falling snowfall. They hadn't seen another cabin for what seemed like miles, and all that was visible were occasional bare fir trees and untouched snow plains. The only populous portion of the city had just grown out of view as it became hidden by the rolling yet rigid mountains. Who would choose to live out here? The only favorable aspect she could discern was the abundance of snow which didn't come very frequently in southern states, particularly in Ocala, Florida.
"Aye! I'm talkin' to you," her mother agitatedly exclaimed.
"Oh-um, okay," Mari responded quietly, completely unsure of what her mother had said but understanding that asking would send her into a rage of sorts. She had quite the temper.
"Here we are."
There it stood--a quaint, snow-covered cabin--and there he stood, a skinny silver-haired man hunched over a wooden cane. How old is he to be my father?
"Wait in here," her mother stated before stepping out of the car and slamming the door, stomping through the thick snow to meet him. Mari could see him grin at her, almost as if he were excited to see her. The grin quickly diminished once her mother began spewing whatever angry words she had stored for him. Why does she still feel the need to hide me from their arguments? I'm eighteen for christ's sake.
"Lisa, why we gots'ta argue every time we see each otha'?" he pleaded with his ex-wife, covering his face in defeat.
"'Cause, William, you need to apologize leavin' me to constantly deal with ya' shi-"
"Oh, this again! What 'shit' are you goin' on about now? Constantly tellin' me to 'apologize for this' and 'apologize for tha-'"
"'What shit'?! How about this fuckin' child you've left me to deal with while you camp out in ya' retarded fuckin' cabin with ya' retarded fuckin' girlfriend! How about that shit?!"
His eyes quickly shifted to Mari who watched attentively and shifted back to Lisa.
"She can hear ya', you son of a bitch," he said, lowering his voice.
"You think I give a dog shit?!" she shouted, paying no regard to William's attempt to silence her. "She'd be betta' off knowin' how I feel about 'er!"
Maybe there was a reason she tended to hide Mari from their arguments.
"She's our child you piece of shi-"
"Well, you sure neva' acted like she was our child!"
Mari could feel tears filling her eyes as her mother spoke. She'd already heard enough yet knew that this would only mark the beginning of her mother's lengthy arguments. The tears were on the verge of escaping before she furiously blinked them away. There's no point in crying. No one's gonna feel bad for you. Everyone will think you're "playing the victim". She shoved her earphones in her ears and played a song that she carried from her childhood, the only song that detach her from situations such as this.
*Babe, there's somethin' wretched about this ,
Somethin' so precious about this,
Oh how to sin.*
