86 86 Listening

"I want her to sign the fucking papers so we can end this already!" I groan as I take a seat on the couch, gripping my head. "She doesn't care about making amends. She just wants to see how she can manipulate the situation to her benefit."

Brian sighs, "I'm not trying to say that you are wrong or right about the reasons behind her wishing to speak to you, Melita. Just hear her out and then go from there."

He has been trying to calm me down and in his 'professional opinion' that this will be good for me to finally heal and move on, regardless. His professional opinion is about to kiss my ass as I walk out the door if my incubator doesn't sign the papers. Then I will see her in court and we will do this the hard way. 

Jackson pulls me into his arms and whispers, "You can do this. She deserves your ire for everything she's done to you. She can not manipulate you or this situation, so it doesn't matter if that's her intentions. You know better." He places a soft kiss on my temple, "Show her you're stronger than the little girl she abandoned. Don't let her drag this out and try to get you to meet again. Alright?"

I sigh raising my face to meet his eyes, "Alright." I concede.

I stand and head to the bathroom needing to splash some cool water on my face. When I step out of the bathroom, my mother is back in the room on her seat, drinking some water while wiping the mascara that's now under her haunted eyes with a tissue. My gut rolls and tightens at the sight. How many times did I see her and my father fight only for it to end with that same haunted look in her eyes, mascara smeared under her eyes and bruises forming or even blood smeared somewhere on her face.

How many times have I had that same haunted look though too? I feel disgusted with myself knowing the trauma that caused it, the emotions of hating yourself, doubting yourself, asking why. 

Why was she looking at me like that?

Why? That agonizing question that could never really be answered, even when it was.

*22 years ago*

Sobbing in the corner, covering my head to protect it after my drunk father had pushed me, making my head bounce off the walls.

"Why are you mad at me? " I was confused, either by the stars I was seeing or the sudden violent outburst that had just happened to my fourteen year old self.

"Because you're a useless mouth to feed! I have to work my ass off to provide for you and do I get so much as a thank you?! NO! Instead you try and feed me this.. this shit!" He picks up the plate of tuna helper and throws it at the wall next to my head, the plate shattering and bits of food flying everywhere. 

"I'm sor-sor-sorry!" I cry, "I'm trying my best! I won't buy that anymore!" I tremble in fright as he growls at me.

"Sorry?! You're best?! Your druggie whore of a mother used to cry the same bullshit excuses! I wouldn't be surprised if you're not out running around whoring and doing the same damn thing!" His rancid beer and cigarette infused spit flies from his mouth as he rants about my mother.

Sick of him screaming at me for my mothers wrong doings and ready to toss my stomach contents on the floor from the smell of his breath and the dizziness still affecting me, I yell right back, "I'M NOT HER! I'M NOTHING LIKE HER! I'M STILL HERE! WHY ARE YOU TREATING ME LIKE THIS?!" 

His eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in rage with focused indignation that I dared yell at him.

"YOU LOOK LIKE THE BITCH AND NOW YOU WANT TO ACT LIKE HER TOO!"

The growl that left his throat had me piss myself in terror as he lunged at my trapped frame. 

Screaming in terror, "I'M SORRY DADDY! I'M SORRY!" He grabbed me by my arm and throat, lifted me in the air and tossed into the living room where I hit his recliner sending the recliner over as I rolled across the floor. 

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Groaning, my head still spinning and now my shoulder hurting where I took the impact the hardest after hitting the recliner, I forced myself up and into the bathroom, where I puked my guts up and sobbed in agony. I didn't even care that I was covered in my own piss. Once I calmed down enough, I washed my mouth out and took two of the over the counter pain pills in the medicine cabinet with the sink water and looked at myself in the mirror.

*Present day*

Hopelessness had pierced my reflection, haunting my nightmares and my mind for years. That same haunted look was in my mothers eyes now as she looked up at me. It was like a punch to the gut that she was looking at me like that, like I was the one who was beating her.

Guilt begins to bead up in my stomach as I sit back down across from her.

Brian clears his throat and looks to my mother, "Was there something in particular you wanted to say to Melita?"

She nods, "Melita, I have not been a good person or mother to you, I know this. I got pregnant too young and was forced to marry your father when neither of us wanted to get married. He had a football scholarship and I wanted to become a stewardess and see the world. It's not your fault that your father and I were resentful towards you. It was cruel and unfair how we treated each other and you for our mistakes. I wanted to get us both out of there, truly I did. When I would get mad and upset with you, it was mainly when I was... coming down from my high."

She tuts when I open my mouth to say something, "I know it is not an excuse. I'm merely saying." She waits a moment as I close my mouth and wait for her to continue.

"I wanted to get us help, but come on Melita. You should know by now everyone in that town knew what your father was doing to the both of us. No one was going to help us. No one wanted to get involved TO help us. We were just fodder for the gossips and pity parties. When it came down to it, no one cared what your father was doing to either of us. So I did the only thing I could, I tried to find an escape, even a temporary one. That's how I met Carl. When he offered to take me to a friends place to stay with him I jumped on the opportunity. I couldn't take you without knowing what kind of place I was going to though. What if it ended up being a pimps house or something?"

She whimpers as she wipes her eyes, her lower lip trembling as I take her words in.

"Yes, I was doing drugs. Yes, I've been in jail multiple times for drugs and crimes because of being on drugs. I was an addict. There were many years I wanted to go and get you again, but what would I have brought you into? Me and Carl yelling at each other because we never had enough money for rent, food and drugs? Us getting evicted and moving into a shelter or couch surfing in homes that were dirty, roach and mice infested? That stole what little we had from us before kicking us out on the streets? I couldn't justify taking you from one shitty situation to another. I would have lost you anyway if you're dad reported you missing to the police or whenever I was arrested. If you had not been forced back in with your father, you would have ended up in foster care and that's a nightmare in it self too."

At those words, Jackson shifts uncomfortable in his spot and words he had said to me before run through my head. 'What kind of foster family put alarms on their windows?' Maybe she is telling the truth? 

"Melita... I am clean now. So is Carl. We both have jobs and are doing okay. Now that I have my life straightened out... I just want the chance to be a part of your life in any way you'll let me. Even if this is it. I just wanted you to know I thought about you more often than not and leaving you behind was the hardest thing I have ever done."

I merely stare at my nails as I rub my cuticles trying not to think about the emotional bomb that her words set inside me. I wipe the tears that unwillingly fall from my eyes, curling into myself on the couch away from Jackson, away from Brian, not daring to look up at my mother or anyone and risk detonating my emotions. 

Talking is going on around me, but every word is distorted and fuzzy. Not that I care as I slip off into my mind and really try to digest what she's said. Do I believe her? Maybe.. Not everything. 

She just wants to be part of my life again? Even if it was just this? 

My shoulder is shaken, startling me from my thoughts. I lift my head to see Lance's concerned gaze on me as he says something that doesn't register.

"... the papers."

I shake my head, "I'm sorry, repeat that? I was lost in my thoughts."

"You need to sign the papers, Melita. So I can send Mr. Hughes on his way." Lance motions to the notoriety agent he had said he would be bringing and I sit up quickly.

"Oh yes, sorry. Thank you, Mr. Hughes."