littlegirllost

I made my mother cry.
It was such a stupid thing. She was bothering me so much.
She wanted to know if it would be physically possible to send an email to Hawaii. She wanted to know how it would get there.
My sister was smacking me under the table, warning me. She knows how I am.
"Are you kidding me?" That's all I said.
Sis jumped in with an explanation. Dinner was saved.
Later, mom was bugging me about cleaning my room. Back up. I moved home two months ago. It's temporary. I'll be out of here in two weeks. (Notice the desperation. I know, I know.) It's so difficult living in this house. With these ghosts. My family draws in around me for support and I want to kick them away like an angry child.
She can't understand why I keep my clothes on the floor. I tell her I like the way it feels to walk over them on my way to the bed.
"Well, I'd feel better if you picked them up," she said. "And that's all that really matters, isn't it?" I replied. That's all I said.
I didn't realize she was crying right away. Crying quietly in the kitchen, facing the cupboards above the sink. To make her feel better, I told her I treat all my friends that way. God, I can be a bitch.