The Ultimate Play (BWWM)

XXX. "a mistake..."

XXX.

  You can do this. I repeated to myself, sitting in my car, staring at the suburban home that I lived in for the most part of my life. The house that started all of this. The house that I'm bittersweet about as I look at the flowers on the lawn and the decorative light pole that never lights up, the two cars parked in the driveway in front of the garage doors that doesn't elevate to let the cars in, and the tall shady trees that surrounded it all.

I grabbed the orange envelope and the notebook that sat in the passenger seat of my car. My palms were sweating. I had a feeling that my coming here was going to end badly, but maybe that's just my negative prospective on this. I turned my engine off and opened my door, stepping onto the concrete sidewalk. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and dog poop. I tugged at my shirt so it covered my stomach more as I walked up the pathway to the stairs of the front door.

I looked at the knob for at least five minutes, deciding whether I should open the door or turn around and get back in my car and go to the condo where Chance and Janice were attempting to make homemade cookies. I almost turned around, but I ended up knocking on the door. Just one knock.

I heard footsteps and then the door opened, revealing my very pregnant mother. I wanted to smile at her, but I ended up just staring down at her stomach. She was huge.

"Oh my, you've gotten so little." she gleamed towards me, looking at my body. She was glowing, or maybe it was just sweat. I gave her a fake smile as she motioned for me to come in. It felt so foreign, walking into my house now. Well, their house. It smelled different, like carpet freshener and smoke. Tim smokes, and you'd think he'd stop with a baby on the way, but, nope.

She led me into the living room and took a seat, still smiling brightly at me. I stood by the entryway. There were new pictures mounted on the walls. Pictures of her perfect family. The perfect family she had without me. They were family photos of her, Tim, and the boys. They looked so...normal. So...perfectly normal.

I gripped onto the envelope and the notebook tighter, feeling my eyes water and gloss over. I could feel the lump in my throat uncomfortably growing larger and larger. My mother was talking in bits, and I wasn't really listening, only nodding. She asked me about school and Chance and how I've been keeping up. She was stalling. I loosened my grip on the items in my hand, walking closer to her. I slowly took a seat across from her so the coffee table was between us.

"We really want you to come home." she spoke, rubbing her round belly. I blinked long and hard, taking a deep breath. I never answered her, so she continued to talk. "Tim said he forgives you. He wants you to come back. Plus, living out there on your own isn't good."

I gritted my teeth, gripping the envelope and notebook once more. "I'm fine..." I wanted to call her my mom. I wanted to say it so bad, but I didn't have a mother. I don't think I ever did. Dad had been more of a parent than her. He tried through his selfishness and busy schedule. He at least tried to make it seem like he cared; even when he might've not gave the slightest of a shit about us; but he'd believe me. He wouldn't let anyone just come along and tell him different because, at the end of the day, what happened was wrong. What happened was real.

"Honey, you're not fine. You're everything but." Concerned covered her face, and it hit a nerve deep inside me and the tears that were threatening to spill from eyes, rolled down my cheek as a spark of anger filled my chest.

My blood boiling through my body, I stood, looking dead at my mother with beady eyes. "Oh!" I yelled at first, startling her. I calmed down a bit before continuing. "You know, mom. I'm actually not fine. I'm insane. I'm depressed. I'm lost. I'm freaking crazy. You know why, mom? Because I was molested and raped for eleven years. Not days or months. Not even eleven times. Eleven years I've been treated like shit at home. No only because of Tim's sick spawns of the devil. Because of you. You neglected me for most of my life, and then one day you up and decided to be supermom, like nothing had ever happened.

"Then I told you. I told you everything that happened!" I was yelling now, tears rolling down my cheeks in a race against one another. "I told you everything. You didn't believe me! So yeah! I'm not fine, but you're sick just like them, but most of all you're stupid. You're stupid for sitting up here, pregnant buy this beast of a man, and turning your back on the girl that would have jumped off a cliff for you. All for a man who doesn't love you, but he gives you money and job opportunities and a house and the perfect family you never had."

I threw the envelope and notebook down on the table, instructing her to read it as I calmed down. She did so, not before trying to explain herself and telling me that I couldn't talk to her like that. I crossed my arms and waited.

After a while she lifted her head. I could see the glossiness of her eyes. Hope sprang within me. She was going to believe me. She had to. It all was there in her face. All the proof to prove at least one thing: Tim was a sicko.

"You can leave now." she said lowly, her head hung low.

"Huh?" I frowned, looking at her.

"Leave. Get out of my house and stay out. You were a mistake anyway." She spat, looking up at me, disgust in her eyes.

I couldn't even look at her. I couldn't even believe this. I couldn't. I was a mistake? How could she even say something like that? I walked out of the house, rage boiling deep in the pit of my stomach as I slammed the door. Had she even loved me?

I got in my car and drove. I drove and drove, until I had no idea where I was and I parked in the grass and just parked there. My heart is shattered. The one love that can never be replaced was just smashed to pieces without the slightest bit of remorse.

I didn't want to, but I cried. I cried til my eyes hurt and my face was raw of emotion.

I could just runway, be alone for the rest of my life. Nothing really matter anyhow. I didn't have a mother. I didn't have nothing or anyone to stop me. All I had was me. All I have is me.

________

Last and final chapter of the Ultimate Play. I've enjoyed writing this story and I'm happy you guys loved it as well. Thanks so much for all the support. This is my second completed work and I'm so happy to say it. I've came a long way and I'm proud of myself. Thanks again, it's been a pleasure.

If you'd like you can comment how you feel about the story as a whole, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I would really love you guys' take of all of it. Sorry for things that might have not been made clear or needed to just plain out be omitted and I'm sorry even more if the story didn't turn out like you wanted it to.