Hello everybody and welcome to a next Thursday Taster!
Please don't forget to check on the other tasters, you can find the list here.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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This week we continue with our Parallel Slip story. Let's see Frederic's explanation.
The
truth was he had placed the money in a bank account for me, to be
accessible when I was old enough to go to university, so that
I didn't need to worry about anything else than studying. He didn't
want her to spend everything in hospital bills. I still wondered what
kind of judge decided without asking me who I wanted to live with,
that they should keep me away from my father. I guess the words of a
seven year old don't count for much. Now I was seventeen and I
could do anything I wanted, or almost. There were law in this country
that said that a parent couldn't stop a child to learn whatever they
wanted, so technically, my mother couldn't force me to take that two
year degree. But it would take a lot of nerves to get up and use the law
against her. I wasn't sure to be ready.
She
didn't stop banging, she never would. Once, she had lectured me about
how dangerous my black out were until I blacked out again, as if she
wanted to prove a point.
I
stood up. She burst into the room.
"So
you finally decided to be reasonable," she said smiling. She
always had that smile of contentment when she thought she had won.
I
didn't bother answering her. I had one bag ready,
the one with the diary and the photos of my brain, everything that I own about who I really was and my favorite books and some teddy bears
that I wouldn't let in her hands.
I
took the second bag out of the closet and started to pile up some
clothes randomly in it.
"What
are you doing?"
"Packing,"
I said.
She
grabbed my arm and turned me around to face her.
"You
didn't hear a single word of what I said," she said anger in
her voice.
"I
listened for seventeen years," I answered.
"Don't
talk back to me," she said.
"It's
about time, I do, because you are the one who never listened. You
only think about yourself. It's not about me, it's not about my
safety. It's all about you, it has always only been about you. What
people would say to you if something happened to me. Not how terrible
it would be if something happened to me, no, never, just how you
would look like to the world," I said.
"That's
not true, you know I care about you," she said.
"If
you cared even a tiny bit, you would think about what you
are doing to me but it never even crossed your mind," I said.
"And
what am I doing to you?"
She
crossed her arms defensively. It was something I had learned from
her, being defensive.
"Didn't
the doctor say that my scan looked like I was under too much stress?
Don't you think it's stressful to have you here yelling at me?"
"I'm
not yelling at you, I'm just trying to have a discussion," she
said.
"Likewise,"
I turned to the closet again. Took out my favorite T-shirts and put
them in the bag.
"We
need to talk about this," she said.
"No,
we don't and we are not talking. Talking means two people
respectfully interacting with words to get to a common agreement or
if they can't let each other have their own opinion. You never let me
talk or listen to me? You just keep going until I give up trying to
make my point clear," I said.
"You're
just being so childish, you think you are so grown up because you
graduated but you have no idea what is good for you," she said.
"You're
right," I answered.
She
took a step back and the smile reappeared on her face.
"That's
why I'm living, right now. Because I'm just a stupid child, you can
just stand here and expect me to come back crying," I said.
My
phone vibrated on the desk.
"What's
that?" she asked.
There
was no hiding it now.
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Sometimes life doesn't seem fair, especially to someone struggling to be recognized as an adult. You portrayed it so well in this excellent taster. Happy New Year Linda!
ReplyDeleteIts about time she stood up for herself. Her mother is smothering her too much to the point, where she can't even breathe. What an awesome piece. Dying to know what happens next.
ReplyDeleteVery nicely written. Have a good 2015!
ReplyDeleteOne more step to freedom. I wonder what her mother will do when she's gone.
ReplyDelete