Chapter 27- Leah Clearwater
I walked in and I saw that a figure was sat at the kitchen table in complete darkness. I frowned and switched on the light. It flickered on and I saw that it was my mom. Her head was bent forward like she was reading but she was just staring at her hands clasped together like she was praying. Her long hair had fallen forward and it hid her face like a silky veil.
She didn't look up. Of course not- she's been doing her best to ignore me for months.
"Mom you're a lot of things but you're not deaf."
Her head snapped up. "Shut up and treat me with some respect. I'm your mother."
"My apologies, I'm sure you can understand why I might be confused," I replied coldly.
"Are you calling me a bad mother?" she enquired quietly.
"No, not bad, but there's room for improvement."
"You see, right there. Bitch isn't exactly something a mother should be calling her daughter now is it?" I muttered bitterly.
She rose from the table. The thing about my mother is when she's really inexplicably angry she's deadly quiet. She walked calmly towards me and stopped two steps away.
"Maybe you should spend less time thinking about what a mother shouldn't do and more time thinking about what a daughter shouldn't do."
She said it slowly and deliberately. Her eyes pierced me and my throat started swelling closed and my eyes filled. Then she started to walk out of the room and it hit me- the familiar sensation of anger, rage. I was done feeling guilty. I glared at her back.
"Why don't you tell me?"
"Why don't you tell me what a daughter shouldn't do?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"A daughter shouldn't treat their mother the way you treat me. You are the most ungrateful, selfish, spiteful, vicious, cruel person I have ever met- unfortunately you also happen to be my daughter. If I had a choice you wouldn't be. I wouldn't want to know you," she hissed.
I let her words wash over me but instead of feeling hurt and guilty I let myself feel angry. It felt good to have the heat wash over me and to channel it into confronting my mother.
"Then you'll be happy to hear that you wouldn't be my first choice for a mother either," I snapped.
"Of course, because I've been so terrible to you, isn't that right?" she said sardonically.
"You already know what I think of your parenting skills," I replied snippily.
"I'd like to see you try putting up with the crap I get off you," she snorted.
I'd reached boiling point, the point of no return. I was sick of being treated like I did everything in my power to make her life difficult, like I was the source of all of her problems when I didn't even want to be there in the first place. I'd had enough.
"I haven't done anything!" I exploded.
"You stole my credit cards-!"
"You kicked me out I needed a way of paying for food!"
"You crashed my car-!"
"It was an accident!"
"The crash maybe but stealing it wasn't!" she seethed.
"Why don't you just say it already? We all know why you really won't speak to me anymore!" I shouted.
She became still suddenly, her chest still rising up and down from shouting.
"It's because I'm leaving La Push isn't it?" I said unemotionally.
"Does that mean you're still leaving?" she asked coldly.
"Did you really expect me to stay here forever?"
"Yes! You always said you were going to get a good job like your father always wanted for you. You said you'd get married and have children and buy a house as close to here as possible and visit all the time."
Her words stung. I did used to say that. I used to say I'd have a successful career. I said I'd have a lovely wedding and a wonderful husband. We'd have beautiful children and a big house somewhere near enough to my mother and father so that I could see them as often as possible.
Then Sam left me. My father died. I changed into a werewolf. I dropped out of school. Every single dream was shattered so deliberately and so forcefully it made it all impossible.
"That was before the universe decided to dump a load of crap on me," I said defeated.
I walked straight past her and shut the kitchen door.