Page 61 of Ride or Die
“Where have you been? Huh? We haven’t seen you in weeks!” she shrieks, her eyes wild as she paces and anxiously fiddles with her hands.
“We never saw each other to begin with! Why do you care all of a sudden?” I say sharply.
“You owe us rent money! And you keep this place clean. That’s your part in our arrangement, and this place is a fucking mess!" she yells, looking around, her arms waving at the mess they created.
“Arrangement? We’re supposed to be a family, not some business transaction. I’m not your personal maid!” I shake my head repeatedly. I can’t believe my ears.
It’s not like we have a close-knit family to begin with, but we’re still blood. We mind our own business. Why the fuck she thinks she can speak to me this way when I’ve literally spent my life trying to not be a burden to them is beyond me.
“I worked my ass off to pay for my schooling so you didn’t have to worry about me. I give you whatever money I can from my job to pay for food and rent. I only did that cleaning shit because I was the only one ever around and didn’t want to live in your mess! I didn’t do it out of the goodness of my heart! So no, I’m not going to clean up the mess that all of you created while I wasn’t even here. You can go fuck yourself!”
She grabs my arm, her pointy fingers digging into my skin, and stares at me with emotionless eyes.
"Get your fucking hands off me!" I spit through gritted teeth, trying to rip my arm from her grasp, but she's holding on so tight her knuckles are turning white.
"Don’t you fucking speak to me like that, you brat!" she shouts, slapping me across the face. I'm momentarily taken aback as I realize what she just did. I'm stunned but not surprised.
Anger and adrenaline fill me and I twist my arm, wrangling myself out of her grasp with a move Colton taught me. When I’m free, I forcefully shove her in the chest, making her stumble back into the kitchen table.
Her chest heaves, her expression dumbfounded that I would dare to stand up to her. Before she can retaliate, I storm upstairs, jamming as many clothes and personal items as possible into a bag.
I am not fucking staying here another minute. I’m going to move all of my shit into Colt’s house, somewhere I’m actually wanted. Once my bag is full, I run down the stairs, bolting for the door. My mom shoots up from her chair in the kitchen, knocking it over, her cigarette filling the room with smoke.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she shouts, in attack mode again. “Get in here and do your fucking chores!”
“I’m not staying here anymore. I’m going somewhere I’m appreciated. You can take care of yourselves instead of expecting me to do it.” With narrowed eyes, she watches me grab a couple more items from the front hall closet and living area.
“You get that Hawthorne kid to send us money to pay for your half of things!”
I spin to glare at her. This horrible woman who’s supposed to be my mother.
“What?”
“Well, since you’re not staying here or contributing anymore, we need the money for bills somehow, or we’ll be homeless. All because of you! I know what he does for a living. He can afford to send us some money!” she shrieks, then chews her nails. I can’t help but let out a bitter laugh.
“No. No way. He’s not paying your way. Not when you’re wasting your money on drugs and god knows what else. Ask your other daughter to pick up the slack. Maybe if she spent less time fucking and more time working, you’d have another cash cow to milk.” With that, I turn and walk out the door, slamming it behind me as she screams obscenities after me.
I pick up my pace, nearly running down the street to Colt’s. When I arrive, he’s standing in the garage working, but I runright past him and up to his room. I drop my bags and dive face first onto his bed, sobs wracking my body. My perfect day with him was ruined by that bitch.
Not long after, soft footsteps creak across the floor, the mattress dipping as he sits on the bed beside me. His warm palm touches my back, rubbing soft circles until I calm down enough to sit up. Taking a deep breath, I look him in the eyes and tell him what happened, watching as his stormy blues fill with anger. He caresses my red cheek, fingers tracing the handprint, and a furious growl rumbles in his chest.
“Who the fuck do they think they are? You’re not even there! They expect you to do their chores and me to pay their bills? Then she put her hands on you?! Fuck it, I’m going there and putting that bitch in her place!” he shouts, grabbing his jacket and storming out of his room before I can stop him.
I chase after him. “Colt, please don’t! I don’t want you getting involved!” I pull on his arm, but he keeps walking, pulling me along.
“I’m sick of them treating you like shit! She hit you! I’m not sitting on the sidelines watching that shit happen to you anymore. You deserve some fucking respect! I told you I'd protect you. I told you no one would fuck with you anymore, and they just did, so that means I'm going to fuck them up!” he booms, pointing down the stairs.
"I don't need you to fight my battles for me!" I shout, letting go of his arm.
He stops, anger and confusion warring in his eyes.
I take a deep breath. “Babe, please. It’s not worth your time. They’re junkies, they’re using again. You can't discuss anything with them when they're like that. I’ll just make sure to never go over when they’re home. Just…please don't. Soon we’ll be leaving them and all this shit behind,” I say sadly, tears rolling down my cheeks.
His face softens, and his eyes fill with sympathy. With an audible exhale, he reaches for me, pulling me against his chest. His lips find my hair, and he holds me close, comforting me.
Every day we stay here, I see larger cracks in my family life that I hadn’t noticed before. I was so naive and sheltered myself from everything. But the hardest part of all of this is realizing that I’ve spent my entire life with a family that never cared. None of them ever loved me at all.
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