My Story
Heather told me to update. So I am. I wrote this story for Creative Writing. Tell me what you think. Oh god... that means you'd have to... oh no! ...COMMENT! Lol, love ya!
Stranded In a Lie by Samantha Gutierrez
“Bye Mikey,” she screams across the movie theater parking lot, “I love you ”
She gets out her cell phone, dials home, and waits.
“Hello?”
“Hey mom, the movie is over, can you come pick me up now?” There is no answer on the other end.
“Hello? Mom?”
“Can’t your friend bring you home?”
“Mom. He already left.”
“Well why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride home? I’m already home. I’m busy I’m not picking you up ”
“But mom, I didn’t think to ask and he doesn’t drive ”
“No You always do this to me I’m sick of it You have no respect, you don’t respect me, you never have. You have no respect No.”
“I’m sorry I just forgot to tell you. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I promise.”
“Bullshit. You always do this. I’m not picking you up. Get one of your friends to come pick you up ”
“Come on mom I can’t do that That’s rude. It’s way out of the way. Please, I’m sorry, I’ll tell you next time. Please mom. Please...”
She’s on the verge of tears now, so she goes to hide behind one of the pillars on the side of the beaten up movie theater.
“Please mother. Please.”
She only calls her “mother” when she would rather call her other more profane things. She calms herself down. She knows the way her mother works. If she plays up to it, if she gets mad too, then there’s no way she can get what she wants. So she pulls out the guilt card.
“Mom, I’m only visiting for two weeks. You haven’t had to drive me anywhere for how many months? Six? Come on mom, this whole time I’ve been getting rides from other people so you haven’t had to drive me around. Please. Mom. I have nothing else to do. What am I supposed to do?”
Silence.
“No.”
“Please? ”
Silence. Her mom has hung up on her. She is full fledged crying now, in fact, she balling her eyes out. She debates silently whether or not she should call her best friend, Scott. She dials the number, lets it ring once, then hangs up. She can’t bring herself to be that weak. Instead, she calls her mother back.
“Hello?”
Acting as calm and un-rattled as she can, she says, “Mom. Really. I have nothing else to do. I’m sorry. I won’t ever do it again. I didn’t mean to. Please. I have no one else to call.”
Eleven days ago, she was sitting on the airplane filled with anticipation at seeing her friends, her home, but more importantly, her mother. When she left Wisconsin six months ago, she never thought she’d live to see the day when she would actually miss her mother. Things are always topsy-turvy between them. They are either best friends, when she tells her mom everything, or worst enemies, when her mom tells everyone everything she’s told her. Trust never used to be an issue, but now it’s the biggest one. Her mom will never know how much she loves her. It doesn’t matter how many times that she tells her that her one aim in life is to make her mother proud, to even turn out a little bit like her. But none of that matters now, they’ve made up again. All is good, and she can’t wait to see her again. When she left . . . they were not on speaking terms. But right now, she is so homesick she can’t breathe.
“No. I told you. Ask me one more time. I dare you. I’m not.”
She’s crying now, she can’t help it. She’s tried, but the tears are tigers in her soul and they are always ready to pounce. “But mommy . . . What am I supposed to do.” All logic has left her, and she is reduced to the seven-year-old girl she was ten years ago, crying as her mom slaps her, punches her, and leaves her broken.
“Take a cab.”
Again, the line is dead. She cries there for at least ten minutes. The beauty on her face is dripping down, staining her cheeks, and falling onto her chest. When she uncovers her face, it is barren. Clean. Pure. She can cry no longer and she feels lighter, as she always does after her heart pours from underneath her eyelashes. She feels stronger but it’s all a lie. She’s merely being filled up with empty space instead of emotion.
She calls her friend, Audra, and arranges a ride home. She tries to beg, but it isn’t necessary. Her friends are always prepared to handle these situations, as they happen often.
It didn’t even cross her mind that a month before, she had been talking on the phone with her mother. She had been crying. But then, it wasn’t often when she wasn’t. She wanted to come back. She made the wrong decision. Her mother promised that she’d try to change if she did. This place was not for her. For gods’ sake, it’s Tennessee. She’d learned her lesson. It was time to go home. Her real home. Her mom said they’d talk about it later.
As her friend Audra pulls up, she is silent, calm, and exhausted. She is full of hate. A hate so strong she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. A hate so strong that she wouldn’t be lying if she said she wouldn’t mind if her mother died right then. And she did say it. That thought ran through her mind over and over again, like a chant. Like maybe if she says it enough, she’ll drop dead right now. Her phone rings.
“Hello?”
“I’ll come pick you up.”
“Never mind,” she says softly.
Silence. She has hung up this time. For now, she has won.
She doesn’t know how she’ll feel in a month, in six months, or a year, but right now she wants to go home. To Tennessee. To her new life, without these complications, where rides home are always there and fists stay unclenched and out of faces. People change. She’s changed. Some people don’t and her mother never will
Stranded In a Lie by Samantha Gutierrez
“Bye Mikey,” she screams across the movie theater parking lot, “I love you ”
She gets out her cell phone, dials home, and waits.
“Hello?”
“Hey mom, the movie is over, can you come pick me up now?” There is no answer on the other end.
“Hello? Mom?”
“Can’t your friend bring you home?”
“Mom. He already left.”
“Well why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride home? I’m already home. I’m busy I’m not picking you up ”
“But mom, I didn’t think to ask and he doesn’t drive ”
“No You always do this to me I’m sick of it You have no respect, you don’t respect me, you never have. You have no respect No.”
“I’m sorry I just forgot to tell you. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I promise.”
“Bullshit. You always do this. I’m not picking you up. Get one of your friends to come pick you up ”
“Come on mom I can’t do that That’s rude. It’s way out of the way. Please, I’m sorry, I’ll tell you next time. Please mom. Please...”
She’s on the verge of tears now, so she goes to hide behind one of the pillars on the side of the beaten up movie theater.
“Please mother. Please.”
She only calls her “mother” when she would rather call her other more profane things. She calms herself down. She knows the way her mother works. If she plays up to it, if she gets mad too, then there’s no way she can get what she wants. So she pulls out the guilt card.
“Mom, I’m only visiting for two weeks. You haven’t had to drive me anywhere for how many months? Six? Come on mom, this whole time I’ve been getting rides from other people so you haven’t had to drive me around. Please. Mom. I have nothing else to do. What am I supposed to do?”
Silence.
“No.”
“Please? ”
Silence. Her mom has hung up on her. She is full fledged crying now, in fact, she balling her eyes out. She debates silently whether or not she should call her best friend, Scott. She dials the number, lets it ring once, then hangs up. She can’t bring herself to be that weak. Instead, she calls her mother back.
“Hello?”
Acting as calm and un-rattled as she can, she says, “Mom. Really. I have nothing else to do. I’m sorry. I won’t ever do it again. I didn’t mean to. Please. I have no one else to call.”
Eleven days ago, she was sitting on the airplane filled with anticipation at seeing her friends, her home, but more importantly, her mother. When she left Wisconsin six months ago, she never thought she’d live to see the day when she would actually miss her mother. Things are always topsy-turvy between them. They are either best friends, when she tells her mom everything, or worst enemies, when her mom tells everyone everything she’s told her. Trust never used to be an issue, but now it’s the biggest one. Her mom will never know how much she loves her. It doesn’t matter how many times that she tells her that her one aim in life is to make her mother proud, to even turn out a little bit like her. But none of that matters now, they’ve made up again. All is good, and she can’t wait to see her again. When she left . . . they were not on speaking terms. But right now, she is so homesick she can’t breathe.
“No. I told you. Ask me one more time. I dare you. I’m not.”
She’s crying now, she can’t help it. She’s tried, but the tears are tigers in her soul and they are always ready to pounce. “But mommy . . . What am I supposed to do.” All logic has left her, and she is reduced to the seven-year-old girl she was ten years ago, crying as her mom slaps her, punches her, and leaves her broken.
“Take a cab.”
Again, the line is dead. She cries there for at least ten minutes. The beauty on her face is dripping down, staining her cheeks, and falling onto her chest. When she uncovers her face, it is barren. Clean. Pure. She can cry no longer and she feels lighter, as she always does after her heart pours from underneath her eyelashes. She feels stronger but it’s all a lie. She’s merely being filled up with empty space instead of emotion.
She calls her friend, Audra, and arranges a ride home. She tries to beg, but it isn’t necessary. Her friends are always prepared to handle these situations, as they happen often.
It didn’t even cross her mind that a month before, she had been talking on the phone with her mother. She had been crying. But then, it wasn’t often when she wasn’t. She wanted to come back. She made the wrong decision. Her mother promised that she’d try to change if she did. This place was not for her. For gods’ sake, it’s Tennessee. She’d learned her lesson. It was time to go home. Her real home. Her mom said they’d talk about it later.
As her friend Audra pulls up, she is silent, calm, and exhausted. She is full of hate. A hate so strong she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. A hate so strong that she wouldn’t be lying if she said she wouldn’t mind if her mother died right then. And she did say it. That thought ran through her mind over and over again, like a chant. Like maybe if she says it enough, she’ll drop dead right now. Her phone rings.
“Hello?”
“I’ll come pick you up.”
“Never mind,” she says softly.
Silence. She has hung up this time. For now, she has won.
She doesn’t know how she’ll feel in a month, in six months, or a year, but right now she wants to go home. To Tennessee. To her new life, without these complications, where rides home are always there and fists stay unclenched and out of faces. People change. She’s changed. Some people don’t and her mother never will