Diana walked downstairs, all of seventeen, and stared at her mother sitting at the dining room table. Her gray hair pulled into a tight bun behind her head like some sort of caricature. "Mama?" Her quiet voice escapes as she stands next to the older woman, "Is everything okay?"
It was never okay. Her father was a retired military General and he acted like he was still in the service at home. Everything was tight and even, except the people. Her father never trusted her, never trusted anyone and in return, she was the same way. Her mother was the unlucky one though. Always forgotten.
She sighs, when the woman doesn't acknowledge her, "I'm going over my friend's house if you need me. She lives just down the street, in the middle of the cul-de-sac. I won't be gone for too long-" Her quick speaking was interrupted by her mother finally, slowly turning her head to look at her.
"You're a beautiful girl, Diana." Helen smiles. Her face a mess of how tired she was, tired with life, tired with living in general. "You're so smart. You're going to graduate soon and you need to make right choices. Don't marry too soon. Don't be weak. Don't give up."
"Of course, Mama. I know all of that." The young girl smiles, lowering herself to a knee., "I know."
She reaches over, gently touching her daughter's cheek with her hand, "I don't say it enough."
Diana doesn't argue with her. She's right, she doesn't say anything much at all. She swallows, unsure of what really was happening.
"I'm right here." Helen whispers.
From that moment on, Diana knew a different side of her mother, a different well being. That her mother was a living, breathing thing and not just there in body and not in mind. They could work on it. It can be better. Diana knew it had to be better.
