Act 3 | Chapter 13

There I was, standing in front of the door to my old house. It hasn't changed at all in the months I was gone. Everything looked the same, but then again, it was a suburban house, so not much changed anyways. Glancing back, I saw Riley parked down the road a bit. She had her car off and was simply scrolling through her phone while she waited. What scared me was the nervous expression on her face when I opened the passenger side door to walk out. Turning back to face my old home, I knocked on the door and waited.

To my surprise, it wasn't my mother or father who opened the door, but my brother, John. He stood there and looked back out at me before sighing. There was a disappointed look on his face as he opened the door for me to step in. It was clear he wasn't happy to see me, but then again, he never was. John called out to my mom and walked upstairs, not bothering to shut the door as he left. I did it instead, watching him leave up to his room while I slowly closed the door. It felt weird, to be standing back in my old house. Everything was kept the same, but it all still seemed so odd. Like none of it belonged here anymore. It's a feeling I'm not sure how to describe, but it was an odd one. After strolling into the kitchen, I saw my mother sitting at the table. She was working on her laptop, typing away for what I assumed was something work-related.

For the first time in forever, she looked up at me without me having to do anything. Her eyes stared blankly at mine, showing no emotion other than a simple frown and board face. Slowly, those eyes looked at my purple-dyed hair and squinted a bit. They looked up and down my body, examining my features like they had done so many times before. It was something I was all too familiar with.

"Zoey." She said, and looked back down to her computer, typing a bit faster. You could hear the rapid clicks from the keys just before she clicked her mouse a few times and carefully closed her laptop.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I said, sitting down at the table across from her.

"I did." She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. I waited in silence for her to say something, and I'm assuming that's what she was doing too because neither of us said a single word for almost a minute straight. My mother was the first to speak up though. "Zoey... I'm not going to dance around the subject or even bother trying to lie to you. I want you to come back and live with me here. Live with us."

"You want me to live with you?" I asked in some disbelief, "You hardly acknowledged my presence half the time."

My mother took in a long and deep breath. She looked down, almost like she was disappointed, then back up at me.

"I know. Do you know why I did, Zoey?"

"No. I don't. Is that what you called me here to talk about? You want to tell me why you treated me like shit my whole life?" I replied with a frown.

"Yes." Was her simple response, "That and a few other things."

"Like what exactly?"

"Well... Let me just start by stating the truth. I don't love you, Zoey." She went quiet as her words pierced my heart. My eyes widened a bit, as it was a response I wasn't expecting. Though to be fair, I had suspected she didn't care for me at all, like I did her from some time, but actually hearing her say it felt so much different.

"You... don't?"

"No. I never have." My mother leaned forward and glared at me. "Eighteen years ago, I gave birth to you. I knew before that day that I wouldn't love you because I never wanted you. All I wanted was one kid, and I had him. Then you came along, and ruined everything." She went quiet again, letting her words sink into me. The more she talked the more it hurt. My heart, my feelings, my thoughts. "You see, I wanted to give birth to one kid because I could financially afford that while still going to college. Body painting was my passion, but it was expensive. There was no way I could pay for two children and keep paying for my classes. So when you came along, I had no choice but to drop out."

Never once in my life, have I heard her speak like this. As far as I knew, she went to college for business, not art. Though the more she explained, the more things started to make sense to me.

"So I dropped out and had to take care of you. This small whining child that cries every time something didn't go her way. You were an annoyance, and impossible to even begin to love. So I only cared for you as little as possible, left you to figure out life for yourself without us. But as you got older, I started to notice something." My mother leaned back again, "You body. As you grew, your breasts never really got any bigger than they are now. You where thin, skinny, and your skin was smooth. All I saw when I looked at you as a canvas, a way for me to continue doing what I loved. So you became used to me, if it wasn't for that, I would have kicked you out of the house when you were old enough."

I continued to sit there in silence, listening to her whole explanation. The more she talked, the more it hurt. I could feel anger building up inside me. It was like I wanted to just stand up and hit her. Knock her out. Kill her. The thought wiggled into my head, and I couldn't shake it out.

"But..." My mother spoke up again, "After you left, I realized something. I had no one else to do body art on. I haven't been able to make money off of you, so we haven't been able to pay some of our more recent bills."

"What?" I asked, tilting my head, needing to do a double-take on what she said, "Make money off of me?"

"Yeah, that's what I was doing with those pictures. Sell them to people online who were interested. So not only were you away for me to continue my hobby, but I could make money off you too."

"You only wanted me so you could make money. To keep doing what you love. You took those pictures of me naked just to sell them to strangers!" I stood up from my seat and slammed my hands down onto the table, "Do you have any idea, what those pictures have done to me? All the countless hours you have stripped your own daughter naked, and used me however you want? Do you have even the slightest fucking clue what that was life for me? To stand there and be abused and ignored by you my whole life!" I had raised my voice, as I screamed at her. I couldn't stop the flow of water from pouring out of my eyes. "You don't care about me. That's why you want me to come back here, os you can keep doing it?! Why in the fuck would I come to live here with you ever again!?"

"Because I'm sorry Zoey."

I went quiet. Again, we started back at each other waiting for one of the other to say something, but we never did. I put my foot down. I got an apology, but it didn't mean shit to me anymore. Something I had wanted for so long, and I never thought it would feel so meaningless.

"You know what," I started, "I have had to go through a lot of shit in life. You, Maria, Hannah, and her other friends. My family didn't even care about me. You didn't. But now, I'm with someone who does. She loves me, and I love her. There is no way in hell that I would take a chance and move away from her. You had your chance to take care of me properly, but it's gone now. I don't care if you need the extra money, or just need me so you can feel as though you can enjoy your hobbies again, but I am done with you." I lowered my voice a bit. My mother crossed her arms and stood up, glaring at me with disappointed eyes, filled with anger and frustration. Her face wrinkled up as she let out a low sigh, "So how about no. I'm not staying with you. You go find someone else to use, and go fuck yourself." I finished with, turning around and walking back to the front door.

"Zoey." My mother quickly said, approaching from behind me.

"What?" I growled, stopping dead in my tracks and turning back to look at her, "What the fuck do you-" I cut off by the sudden smack across my face. It hit me like a truck and knocked me against the wall. My mother grabbed me by the back of my hair and yanked on it hard. I let out a slight squeal in pain as I tried fighting back.

"I wasn't giving you an option." My mother said as she gripped my hair harder and yanked me backward, as she started pulling me towards the basement.