Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Rage Ramble.
Distate and disgust cramp my stomach as I listen to the words being shouted out at me through the phone at my ear. I roll my eyes and bite at my lips in frustration; My tolerance for my mother is running thin as she continues to attempt to lay down the law. As soon as she stops to catch her breath I scream back at her with gusto not taking a chance at breathing (knowing that if I did she would quickly do the same thing I had done to her) My tongue lashes out and I hatefully give her my opinion as it was laced with profanities. I could hear her unnaproval of my choice vocabulary, however I didn’t care. I wasn’t mad, or angry, I was pissed.
The phone call ended as abruptly as it had began, before I knew it I sat myself at the kitchen table downing apple juice. I love apple juice, it calms me down greatly. While drinking the juice I contemplated on what had just happened and what I could have done better, criticizing myself on how ‘soft’ I had been with her… “Next time, I’ll do better,” I thought to myself. My little sister entered the kitchen only seconds after I had emptied my glass, her brow was quirked and her face expressed puzzlement. I tried to send her away with a flick of my hand, but she refused to go. I closed my eyes and groaned, I knew if I yelled at her I would only get in more trouble… Although the whole fight on the phone was because of the stocky girl that stood just feet away from me.
She released a grunt (which I say sounded extremely piglike) and pushed a chair aside at the table so she could sit herself upon it. As she sat down she positioned herself so she was directly in front of me. She examined my expressions and actions, trying to figure out what I was thinking and what had caused me to explode on the phone. Indeed she did not know, because as soon as the vocal works began I stepped outside and had shut the door so hard it shook the house and all of its inhabitants knew there was trouble afoot. There was trouble of course, But I wasn’t going to let anyone know about it… Oh no. I would go down and visit my mother this weekend like the court document said, and if the woman dared to raise her voice at me while I was in her presence I would double up my fists and lay down my own form of justice.
I hate visiting my mom, she’s a drunk. She never remembers anything when she is drunk as well as she gets very belligerent, I tire of wasting my time to go down there to ‘baby sit’ her. And because of that I haven’t been down there for three months, although I am supposed to visit every two weeks. I hate it, I hate her, I hate her house… And tomorrow when I am shipped off against my will to see her, My mind will be full of evil chaotic punishments that I can/ will throw upon her if she even dares to get under my skin. I naturally do not like people and I have never had much charisma unless it is called for to the most extreme of extents; And I daresay tomorrow will be interesting, my mom and I will tango around the house with fits of me shoving her face through drywall. ♥
The phone call ended as abruptly as it had began, before I knew it I sat myself at the kitchen table downing apple juice. I love apple juice, it calms me down greatly. While drinking the juice I contemplated on what had just happened and what I could have done better, criticizing myself on how ‘soft’ I had been with her… “Next time, I’ll do better,” I thought to myself. My little sister entered the kitchen only seconds after I had emptied my glass, her brow was quirked and her face expressed puzzlement. I tried to send her away with a flick of my hand, but she refused to go. I closed my eyes and groaned, I knew if I yelled at her I would only get in more trouble… Although the whole fight on the phone was because of the stocky girl that stood just feet away from me.
She released a grunt (which I say sounded extremely piglike) and pushed a chair aside at the table so she could sit herself upon it. As she sat down she positioned herself so she was directly in front of me. She examined my expressions and actions, trying to figure out what I was thinking and what had caused me to explode on the phone. Indeed she did not know, because as soon as the vocal works began I stepped outside and had shut the door so hard it shook the house and all of its inhabitants knew there was trouble afoot. There was trouble of course, But I wasn’t going to let anyone know about it… Oh no. I would go down and visit my mother this weekend like the court document said, and if the woman dared to raise her voice at me while I was in her presence I would double up my fists and lay down my own form of justice.
I hate visiting my mom, she’s a drunk. She never remembers anything when she is drunk as well as she gets very belligerent, I tire of wasting my time to go down there to ‘baby sit’ her. And because of that I haven’t been down there for three months, although I am supposed to visit every two weeks. I hate it, I hate her, I hate her house… And tomorrow when I am shipped off against my will to see her, My mind will be full of evil chaotic punishments that I can/ will throw upon her if she even dares to get under my skin. I naturally do not like people and I have never had much charisma unless it is called for to the most extreme of extents; And I daresay tomorrow will be interesting, my mom and I will tango around the house with fits of me shoving her face through drywall. ♥
Labels: cell phone, fighting, hatred, mom, mother, parentage, rivalry, siblings, text war
--Cloud Envy.
8:47 AM
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8:47 AM
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