The Story I thought was True

Chapter Two: I have a lightbulb moment

As soon as it is out of my moms mouth. I want her to take it back. After realizing that I heard what she said right. My mind goes into denial. I don't want to believe it. I keep telling myself my parents are playing a trick on me, but that isn't them. A tiny part of me knows this is truth. Everything becomes a blur. I am slowly processing the news. I say some things. There is some yelling and a lot of tears. I storm off to my room. Then I slam the door.

As soon as I dry my tears. I make the journey up the steps. As I take each step which seems like a journey of a million miles that might bring me closer to my daughter in both our relationship and the distance between her body and mine. I look at the pictures lining the walls at the top of the stair case. I see Angie's smiling face in almost every one. It is hard and strange to remember a time when she was that young and innocent. A time when she didn't have a care in the world. A time when she was my baby, and that was the it was supposed to always stay, but sadly every child must grow up at some point. The time for Angie to grow up was now, in this very moment.

I hear a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" I snarl " Sure, now you ask me." As a reply. I know my words must sting like a thousand knives, but only a tiny part of me cares. I tell myself my mother deserves it. She has hurt me, so she must be hurt as well. How did our relationship become like this. My mom and I were always so close. Can three little words change all of the fond memories, and love I had felt for this woman. The woman that had reared me as best as she could with all the love in her heart.

The words she says burn in my heart like fire. Just as I am about to turn away. I hear a sigh from behind the door, and then a quiet, whispered "Fine, come in." I don't miss my chance. I open the door before she has a chance to say never mind. She sits there on the bed curled up in a little ball. "Hey Ang." No response. " I know you are mad at me and your dad." Then she says the worst possible thing she could ever say to me. "You aren't my mom. I hate you." It isn't very loud, but I hear it as if she had screamed into a megaphone. Her words hurt me more the any bullet ever could. I don't show it though. " Angie you need to know everything, and then maybe you will forgive me."

As the words pour out of her mouth. Little scraps of memories of times gone by appear to me. They are like a gigantic puzzle I must put together. The person I see the most in these scraps is a blond woman with straight hair. She must be my mom! Some of the memories I see are great. Others are horrible. I see images of me baking cookies with my mom. We laugh as she feeds me homemade chocolate chip cookie dough. Then she eats some herself. Right off the spoon! More memories flash pass by. Then I see an image that comes with screaming.

As I bring up the subject of Jennifer's death. Angie falls out of her bed. Then she passes out. At first I panic but then I realize she is still breathing so I calm down. Then I wait there until she wakes up.

I see images of a closet, a dead body, and missing posters. While these images flash before my eyes, I hear someone laughing. Not a good laugh but a mean laugh. I know this laugh it was directed at me many times when I was little. Then I see his face and all I hear is screaming... the terrible screaming. I want it to end, but it doesn't it goes on for forever, and I know I can't help her because as people say the past is the past. I wish it didn't have to be. I wish it wasn't.

When she opens her eyes I ask her if she is okay, she sighs. Then says it's complicated. Why is the answer to something that involves teenagers always have to be "complicated" even when it isn't that complicated. " Did you eat today?" I say. She grunts in reply. " Is something going on at school? Have you been sleeping okay? Are you on drugs?" I bombarded her with questions. She then whispers " Please just leave me alone mom." She pushes me out of the room, shuts the door and locks it.

The next few weeks after that incident. It is so hard to act normal, like everything is just fine. When I know it's not and I know it might never be just fine again. As a way of coping I start to distance myself. I don't know what to do. I feel stuck. I feel alone. Sometime I think about committing suicide, so I don't have to deal with it all.

In those weeks after I worry, but every mother worries, right, well I worry Angie might not be coping well. I mean I know I wouldn't act normal if I was in her shoes but... after that she starts distancing herself and I wonder what would she try to do to stop feeling hurt.

One day... I walk home from a particularly bad day at school. My parents aren't home. I go to the bathroom and look in the medicine cabinet I grab a random bottle but then I decide against. I put it back. Then, I start thinking I don't have to deal with this. What if I just leave. No one would miss me. At that moment I start making plans.