The snapping of the cord

As much as I hated it, I was slipping away from her. The ends of my fingertips were outstretching for the brush of her hands. The heavy current of my evolution into pre-adulthood was pushing us apart and she could see it. And despised the change almost as much as my tumescent submissiveness towards it. With frightened expressions she threatened the growth away as it fought to take over me. Her fists' grip on my wrist was tightening with every cuss word my tongue shot at her.

"I will not have you using my house like a motel! You're like a vampire. Going out at night and coming home the next day only to sleep and do it all over again. It's the wrong road and I can't have you doing it!"

I couldn't understand the emotions that were filling me as she held me at the door of the two story home that had always been her dream, keeping me from skipping down the driveway into the usual red pontiac that picked me up for my midnight outings. The intensity pulsing within me was fierce and unexpected. I glanced towards the getaway car and my friend gazing up at the lighted foyer curiously. It was suddenly as if he could hear everything and I was anxious to prove that I was not the seventeen year old girl that my birth certificate professed me to be.

"What. Do. You. Care!" I screamed into her. She backed away and her hand loosened. She was afraid. And not of the force of my slap but the weight of my words and the stones that my disrespect threw. She loved me, and wanted me to be her baby forever. It was permissible to people like my cousin, Arielle who let her mother control her life and would probably only move out to live with a husband and a few kids hardly five minutes away. The time to break from the nest had just come a little earlier. For me, I could see- We could have both seen if my mother's eyes weren't glued shut- it was time.

"You WONT be doing whatever you want in my house, I promise you that! I'm the only woman in this house. If you want to go out and not come back then why don't you just go and live with your Josh?!" It was two things that she hadn't known that would have flipped her sentence totally around. Firstly, I'd been a woman for over a full year. Secondly, I longed to live with Josh. Spending the night was never enough. For some reason, I found myself still tired every time he woke me up minutes before he had to be at work and offered to drive me home. We were tight like Prince's jeans. He'd introduced me to my adulthood. And I loved him for it. It was something that she'd never get nor understand.

It was painful. Ripping myself from my mother and tossing myself into the pontiac was excruciating, which confused me even more because I could not stop. Slamming the door after me, I caught a glimpse of my mother's defeated face. She pursed her lips then and headed up the stairs. A fear that she'd given up ran through me.

"Khadija, Khadija. You okay? You wanna just miss the party and talk about it?"

I turned to look at Josh, who had a worried expression crossing his face. He was on good terms with his mother. Awkward and maybe possible only by denial but good. He'd moved out after highschool. Now his life was a contour of bills, friends, and less partying than he'd ever done before. I was sure that the quiet of living alone had given him time to examine his life and adjust it. But mines- was still a spirling chaosity. Heaven in the streets, Hell at home. I knew the superficial difference and was afraid of the change of moving out. But perhaps it was something that had needed to be done a long time ago.

I tossed my hand to the back of Josh's neck and locked foreheads with him.

"I'm ready to get fucked up." I tell him. He smiles as I back into the seat and stretch the seatbelt across me. His engine revvs and he flies down the street. The jerk of the sudden speed forcing a tear from my eye.

Michele   Michele wrote
on 11/7/2009 8:11:00 AM
I always did my best to respect my Mom, even at 17, though I was sneaking out and dipping my toes into adulthood, just like everyone else. I'd tentatively ask her: 'what if ... I decided to 'sleep with ...'--and there was such denial in her response I decided to resort to subterfuge to spare her feelings. Dad, on the other hand, called the cops every time he disapproved of a boyfriend! His disdain of my marriage(a mixed relationship that didn't work out), resulted in an estrangement of Dad & me of 30 years! He told me, when I turned 18, that I could have some cast off furniture if I'd just please leave. College was out of the question--I was too 'boy crazy' and I was forbidden to go. Plus I graduated from high school at 16 and was told I was too young, though I had a 3.75GPA--and I'll tell ya, life ain't EZ without the college degree behind you. My talents were never nurtured and I've worked at everthing from a house cleaner to a car salesperson. I'm exhausted and sick now--disabled from hard work and cigarettes, and live on an old-lady disability pension at age 55! You don't think late-adolescent caprices have long term effects---they DO. Luckily, my Mom and I became best friends till she died a few years ago, and Dad & I reconciled last year, but it's been a tough ride. Oh, and my little brother died of effects of prolongued booze/coke last year. That stuff'l get you before your time, one way or another. I'm from an upper-middle class suburban family--whose Dad had many college degrees. I have some quality of life--but things could have been so much better with college! Your writing is excellent--you need to cultivate your opportunity to earn credibility/credentials and finish the ed!!!!!

Warriorprincess55   Warriorprincess55 wrote
on 10/3/2008 3:05:34 PM
Baby girl, for that is all you are, no matter the feelings that you are experiencing right now in your life. I was once your age and though each individual has different experiences growing up, unless it is absoultely unbarable for you to stay at home, stay in school and get a grip on how you want your life to proceed for your future. My advice to you is to love and respect your mom, and try to make things better at home. Remember she was once 17 also and I'm sure she knows the feelings that you're having. Believe me, we've all had them! I thought that I wanted to be grown and on my own when I was only 15, and my mom accomodated my wishes. I had two children before the age of 20, and I'm here to tell you that I wish I had stayed a child for as long as I possibly could have! And that was over thirty years ago! I'm pretty sure that it's a lot worse out there these days, and I say to you again, get yourself together and be the young woman that I pray your mom raised you to be. By the way, your writing is excellent, and since you've stated that you intend to go to college and eventually get a PHD in English, you need to keep that focus! Good luck to you and may God continue to bless you!

Moqui_Takoda   Moqui_Takoda wrote
on 7/27/2008 10:41:16 AM
My dad used to beat us. My mom used to come in when we were doing something that inspired us to study but hadn't yet gotten to the book with by coming in and slapping us because we hadn't started to study. One day, it was my turn to break his nose and I did. He had three curves to his nose and one was mine, and the other two were my two brothers'. The day he chased my sister around the house with a hair brush was the day I stuck my foot out and tripped him and spit on him. Now mom, she liked to use a weeping willow twig on our legs but never on our faces and so the day i broke a ruler over her head and I was seven was the day Dad tried t o strangle me so i kneed him the groin and tried to claw out his eyes. Eventually things evened out. But i don't love either of them and i never will. It is good to break the cord, for the bond will heal, before it is too late. The final lines expose another problem. It is hard to know when the one you care about is an enabler, or is unaware of their own problem, but the problem will strike emptiness into one or the other of you if it is not recognized and dealt with by tenderness and empathy, not sympathy, for sympathy is cheap like words, but empathy can only come from somebody who know and who can help because they care about truth. Again, thought provoking and good work.

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 7/4/2008 9:54:38 PM
I liked your honesty for I could tell it came straight from the heart. Sometimes it is so hard to be totally and brutally honest with ourselves.

penname   penname wrote
on 7/4/2008 11:53:48 AM
i really liked this. very gritty and very unexpected turn of events love the tone style too -the only thing I didnt like or felt it detracted was the "title" also, it's hard to explain, but this wtory wouldve had more impact for me if it flowed a little better. That's something that comes naturally with time. A line that was very good and simplistic was "Heaven in the streets; Hell at home"- see that flows and has alliteration. It flows off the tongue and seems poetic. Some of the dialogue doesnt flow like that. Of course all lines may not sound musical, but most should in my opinion. It takes alot of work...just reworking word choices and sounds. the last line is meaningful but sounds awkward syntax wise. An example I'd use would be " a tear is forced from my eye as I jerk from the sudden speed (or the sudden force)

Short Story
writing dsr
One tear in a bucket, fuck it.
Bookmark and Share

You must log in to rate.
Rating: 10.0/10

This is only the recalling of a moment that happened recently between me and my mother. If anyone could respond with a critique and maybe some advice on what I should do about my situation that would be great. Thanks.