I Never Told You What I Did for a Living
Welcome Home
"What the hell is this?"
"Well isn't that a welcoming phrase to hear when you walk in the door?" I grumbled as I set my bag down.
"Lily, this is serious," my mom said as she walked into the room, holding a blue tattered notebook. My sketchbook.
"Where did you find that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"That's not important. I need you to talk to me."
"You've never wanted to waste time with me before, why start now?"
"I've never seen these before, that's why," she waved the notebook at me. "How could you draw things like this?" she opened the book to a drawing of a young girl sitting on the floor. Her wrists were bleeding and a shattered picture was beside her.
"I can explain," I began. "I was in a bad place when Dad left, and you were too wrapped up in your own life to pay any attention to me. I had to release all my anger somehow. Besides, I'm over it. I'm okay now."
"I wish I could believe you, I really do. But I've spoken with Jill and, quite frankly, I'm worried."
"You talked to Jill? About what?"
"You're not yourself. You don't talk to anyone unless you're fighting with them. It's just not healthy, Lily."
"You obviously haven't noticed that I've been that way for the last four years," I glared at her.
"This can't all be about your father," she reasoned. "There must be something else going on. Does it have something to do with that boy from the other day?"
"No! If anything he's helping me. But you're right, it's not all about Dad. I haven't been able to talk to you in a long time. Face it, you're a horrible mother."
She sat down, shocked. "Is that what you think? Well forgive me for going out and working so that you could have a good life."
"It's not about you working. It's about how whenever I need you, you're out doing God knows what with God knows who. You've never been there for me. Even when Dad was here, you'd just tell me to go tell Jill all my problems. I case you haven't noticed, I don't want to burden people. They've got enough problems with me already without me telling them the kind of shit that I go through."
"Oh, because you've got it so hard," her voice held a hard edge. "You live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, but that's just not good enough."
"I would give all of that up for a functional family. Sure, when people are around we seem normal enough, but not even Jill knows how it gets behind closed doors. I thought I was dead inside until a few days ago."
"Show me your wrists," she commanded quietly.
"What?" She had to be kidding.
"You heard me."
"Mom, the girl in that picture isn't me! I haven't even looked at that book in years!" The last part was a lie, but the picture really hadn't been me.
"Your wrists, Lily," she repeated.
Angry tears welled in my eyes as we stared each other down. I fought them back, refusing to let her see me cry. I shoved out my arms, palms up. She seemed shocked when there were no scars.
"Are you happy now?" I spat, fury pumping through my veins. I picked up my bag and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know, and I don't know when I'll be home. Probably not for a few days. In any case, maybe when I get back you'll be done with this power trip and we'll both be able to learn to trust each other again. Until then, don't bother calling me. I'll be screening my calls."
I slammed the door behind me and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the number Gerard had given me. Since Jill had went behind my back to my mom, he seemed to be the only one I could turn to.
"Well isn't that a welcoming phrase to hear when you walk in the door?" I grumbled as I set my bag down.
"Lily, this is serious," my mom said as she walked into the room, holding a blue tattered notebook. My sketchbook.
"Where did you find that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"That's not important. I need you to talk to me."
"You've never wanted to waste time with me before, why start now?"
"I've never seen these before, that's why," she waved the notebook at me. "How could you draw things like this?" she opened the book to a drawing of a young girl sitting on the floor. Her wrists were bleeding and a shattered picture was beside her.
"I can explain," I began. "I was in a bad place when Dad left, and you were too wrapped up in your own life to pay any attention to me. I had to release all my anger somehow. Besides, I'm over it. I'm okay now."
"I wish I could believe you, I really do. But I've spoken with Jill and, quite frankly, I'm worried."
"You talked to Jill? About what?"
"You're not yourself. You don't talk to anyone unless you're fighting with them. It's just not healthy, Lily."
"You obviously haven't noticed that I've been that way for the last four years," I glared at her.
"This can't all be about your father," she reasoned. "There must be something else going on. Does it have something to do with that boy from the other day?"
"No! If anything he's helping me. But you're right, it's not all about Dad. I haven't been able to talk to you in a long time. Face it, you're a horrible mother."
She sat down, shocked. "Is that what you think? Well forgive me for going out and working so that you could have a good life."
"It's not about you working. It's about how whenever I need you, you're out doing God knows what with God knows who. You've never been there for me. Even when Dad was here, you'd just tell me to go tell Jill all my problems. I case you haven't noticed, I don't want to burden people. They've got enough problems with me already without me telling them the kind of shit that I go through."
"Oh, because you've got it so hard," her voice held a hard edge. "You live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, but that's just not good enough."
"I would give all of that up for a functional family. Sure, when people are around we seem normal enough, but not even Jill knows how it gets behind closed doors. I thought I was dead inside until a few days ago."
"Show me your wrists," she commanded quietly.
"What?" She had to be kidding.
"You heard me."
"Mom, the girl in that picture isn't me! I haven't even looked at that book in years!" The last part was a lie, but the picture really hadn't been me.
"Your wrists, Lily," she repeated.
Angry tears welled in my eyes as we stared each other down. I fought them back, refusing to let her see me cry. I shoved out my arms, palms up. She seemed shocked when there were no scars.
"Are you happy now?" I spat, fury pumping through my veins. I picked up my bag and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know, and I don't know when I'll be home. Probably not for a few days. In any case, maybe when I get back you'll be done with this power trip and we'll both be able to learn to trust each other again. Until then, don't bother calling me. I'll be screening my calls."
I slammed the door behind me and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the number Gerard had given me. Since Jill had went behind my back to my mom, he seemed to be the only one I could turn to.