just listen
"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" Dylan squeaked jubilantly. "Mommy! Look what I made at preschool today!"
"Dylie, you can show me later." Merri-Lee continued typing extremely fast on the Dell laptop. "Why don't you go show Alana? Or Patrick? Just not me."
"But why?" She shoved the painting in Merri-Lee's face.
"Because, Dylan!" Merri-Lee turned to spank her child. "I'm busy!"
Dylan burst into tears and ran away from her mother. "I hate you, stupid poopy-head!"
"What was that?!" Merri-Lee didn't bother to go after Dylan. "No more Rice-Krispie Treats for you, young lady!
"I don't care!" Dylan stomped up the stairs, and ran to her room.
She slammed the door behind her and shouted, "You're fat, Mommy!
Dylan cried. She let all her emotions swim in her salty tears. Anger. Agony. Remorse. Disgust. Despair. She hated her mother.
"Mom, look." Dylan handed Merri-Lee her fourth grade report card.
"Not right now, Dylan." Merri- Lee had a cell phone between her ear and shoulder. "Oh, sorry. Yes, I think that's a great idea."
Dylan began to tug on her mother's arm, begging for attention. "Moommmm."
Merri-Lee ripped her arm out of Dylan's grip. "Dylan. Cut it out."
Dylan poked her mother's thighs and stomach. "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom."
Merri-Lee glared at her child. "Look, Dan, I'm going to have to call you back."
Dylan smiled with joy as her mother snapped her phone shut. "Here, look at my grades, now, Mom."
"Dylan Marie Marvil. That was very rude of you." She snatched the report card and began to rip it to shreds. "So now, I suggest you scurry on upstairs, and do whatever it is that you do."
"But don't you care about my grades?" Dylan stared up into Merri-Lee's green eyes.
"At this moment in time, I could care less about who you have a crush on in school. I'm very busy with work and I need time alone." Merri-Lee pushed her daughter in the direction of the stairs. "Go."
"Fine." Dylan went towards the stairs.
Dylan cursed her mother under her breath. Merri-Lee never cared. She never bothered to try and care. She didn't want anything to do Dylan or anyone other than her, for that matter. She despised her mother.
"Hey, Mom?" Dylan poked her head into her mother's room.
"Not now, Dylan." Merri-Lee scribbled a few words in her notebook.
"But I have to ask you something." Dylan stared at the back of her mother's head.
Merri-Lee continued to write and occasionally sip her water. "Get out, Dylan."
"Moommm." Dylan whined.
"Dylan!" Merri-Lee slammed her notebook on the desk and swiveled around. "Do you not understand the concept? Just go!"
"No." Dylan replied calmly.
"What?" Merri-Lee stood up from her desk chair. "What was that?
Dylan backed up as her mother came towards her. "No- nothing."
"No. I'm certain I heard something." Merri-Lee was staring down at her daughter in Jimmy Choo heels. "Now, tell me what you said."
"I said..no." Dylan looked down at the shiny hardwood floors.
"That's what I thought." Merri-Lee drew her hand up to slap her daughter's pale cheek.
Dylan crumbled back in pain, but refused to say anything.
"Don't you ever disobey me again!" Merri-Lee slammed the door in her daughter's face.
Dylan still pushed to not let a single tear drop down her cheek. She wasn't going to give her mother the satisfaction.
Her mother didn't even know how to mother. Yes, she provided Dylan with everything and anything she ever wanted, but that wasn't what Dylan wanted. All she wanted was someone to care and listen.
Dylan forced herself to get up. She had been lying on her unmade bed for three and half hours. After fighting with her mother for the umpteenth time, she was completely exhausted. Her eyeliner was running. Her lipstick was smeared. Her face was blotchy and red. Her heart was broken. And her mother didn't give a shit. As long as her hair was shiny and curly, her make-up was impeccable, her outfit gorgeous, and her daughter nowhere to be found, nothing else mattered. Of course, Merri-Lee made sure none of her fans even knew that a daughter existed.
She was dressed in a turquoise, black, and cream tunic and black jeans in the hope that she would have somewhere to go, but the chance never came. She felt overdressed even though the only person there to judge her was herself. And the mirror, of course.
She walked over the elegant, white mirror hung upon her green painted walls. She stared at herself. In some ways, she thought she was pretty. She had a spectacular set of emerald green eyes and long, cascading locks of fiery red hair. As she looked father down her body, she stared at her somewhat small tummy. Even though she was a size four in jeans, she still considered herself to be "fat" compared to her best friends. They all were at least smaller then a size two. Her mother considered her to be "obese" in the fashion sense. Which Merri-Lee took to her advantage to torture Dylan's self-esteem. Yet another reason to simply despise her mother.
Dylan's cell phone began to buzz on her bedside table. She grabbed it, tapped "talk", and pressed it to her ear. "Hey."
"Bonjuer, Dyl," Jocelyn, Dylan's sister, replied. "How's it going?"
"Horrible, to say the least." Dylan stared at her fingernails. She was somewhat tempted to chew them off.
"Merri-Lee?"Jocelyn replied sympathetically. "Did she hit you?"
"Not this time," Dylan answered. "But she came close. I ran before she got the chance."
"Way to go, Dylan," Jocelyn smiled. "Just wait. In two years, you can get away from her, and do whatever the hell you want. Just like I did."
"Yeah," Dylan imagined. "That'll be the highlight of my life."
"Great," Jocelyn said. "So. I'm getting this vibe, that you're in need of a shopping spree."
"I guess." Dylan flopped back onto her bed.
"That's what I thought," Jocelyn replied. "Soo, while I'm back in town, let's head up to the city and spend like crazy. You up to it?"
"Wouldn't miss a chance to get away from the bitch," Dylan laughed. "Pick me up in fifteen?"
"Done," Jocelyn replied.
"M'kay."
**********
"Dylie!" Jocelyn shuffled towards Dylan in her red three-inch Mui Mui heels.
"Lyn." Dylan wrapped her arms around her old sister. "I love your dress."
"Vintage Ella Moss." Jocelyn striked a pose. "Just got it yesterday."
"Cute," Dylan said.
"Okay, you ready?" Jocelyn questioned.
"Can't wait," Dylan answered. She followed Jocelyn to her blue Mercedes Benz, and bounced into the passenger seat.
"All set?" Jocelyn started up the shiny, new car.
"Yup." Dylan buckled her seatbelt.
"Then let's go waste some money!" Jocelyn yelled excitedly. She turned the radio on and Lady Gaga's "Love Game" blasted through the speakers.
"Let's have some fun!" Dylan sang.
"This beat is sick." Jocelyn contorted her face as she cited the words.
"I wanna take a ride on your disco stick!" They sang together.
Dylan laughed. She loved being with her sister.
But she knew it wasn't going to last. Nothing ever did.
Ah! I love Dylan! Okay. Review. Please? Because I love dark red apples. Aren't then awesome? 'Kay.
Reviews= virtual dark red apples,
Maddddddyyy!