It was a typical day for me. I woke up, rushed to get ready, went to school, got crap loads of homework, finished it all, went to buy beer and such for my mom, then came home. That was my usual routine that I just couldn't seem to break; I was afraid to. Why? It was because of my mom. One time I tried to talk her into going to rehab for her drinking problem and she got so angry – she was drunk – that she took the bottle of whiskey in her hand and broke it over my head.
Later I woke up in the hospital with over 40 stitches in my head and the sharp memory of what my own mother had done to me. In the room were me, a doctor, and my mom. The doctor asked me what happened and before I could get a word out my mom gave me a look – glare – from behind the doctor that said, "Don't you dare."
"I don't remember. What happened to me mom?" I answered innocently. There were no other questions asked after that. The story was that I tripped and hit the refrigerator – that had bottles of alcohol resting on the top – and the bottle of whiskey fell on my head.
From then on I never attempted to tell anyone about what my mom did. Or what she does. If I tick her off, or if she's too drunk, she'll beat me until she goes asleep – leaving me with blotches of blue and purple on my ivory skin.
To this day I'm glad that we live in an always snowing town, so I have an excuse to wear jackets, sweaters, and long sleeved shirts to hide the scars and marks.
I thought about all of this when I was lying in bed tonight. I thought back to where this all began, to see if I was the one who caused my life to be like this. Then I found the answer. Yes, it was my fault. I was the one who had driven my father away, so my mom always told me. She said that he left because I wanted too much; that I never quit asking for things.
My father leaving was what made my mother an alcoholic. That's why my life was how it was. Since then, till now, and until I die, I will always feel guilty for ruining our lives.
I felt a tear trail down my face and onto my pillow. Have you ever had the feeling you were being watched? I know I do now.