Burn it Down

~Megan's mother's POV~

I looked at my daughter as she sat on the couch. She was so different from who she used to be. I remembered my sweet daughter. Soft, and gentle. My daughter didn't yell, and was timid and bold at the same time. Scared of drugs.

I looked at my precious daughter and wondered if it was my fault she had turned to metal before my eyes.

I looked at my husband David and he gave me a weird look. Finally he got the hint that he needed to speak to Megan first.

"Megan, what the hell did you think you were doing going to an abandoned house in Littleton?" He started off.

My daughter rolled her eyes.

"I'm dead serious, young lady! You could get yourself in a lot of trouble! Actually, you seem to have already done that!"

"I was trying to have some fun, alright!" She spat. I didn't like this daughter. "I can't do shit here! You don't let me go out after it gets dark. You don't let me have more than one friend over at a time. I can't smoke, I can't have even one drink. You take the keys to my car even though I've recently started paying for my own insurance and gas. Luke gets to spend the night 2 days a month, but you don't even want us to have sex."

My face contorted at the thought of my daughter being deflowered. I remembered her purity and innocence, and I didn't think I was wrong for wanting her to hold onto it.

"Don't give me that fucking look! I'm 18 god damn years old. I've had sex. I know you'd love it if I lived like a fucking nun, but that's not the life I want. I wanted to have some fun! That's why we'd go to the house in Littleton. We'd go to have sex, or hang out. To pretend that we could actually live the lives we wanted to. We never stayed for long, and no one else has ever been there."

"Megan," I said calmly. "How safe is that though? You could have been hurt!"

"Yeah, mom. I could have. But you lock me up. You lock me up, this place is a fucking prison. Then you wonder why I want to get out and be a little reckless? You've never let me live! I was too young then to recognize it, but if you did this shit to Kevin, no wonder he fucking killed himself."

My heart dropped when she mentioned my son's name. Kevin was a memory I had to block out. He was my first child, and his loss devastated me. I just let Megan stomp up the stairs and I sat and tried to compose myself. I looked at my husband to give me support.

"You wanted this talk with her, Susan! I've told you that she needs to live a little. That she's not going to be a little babydoll you can keep locked in a box, now look. You're about to cry, and am I shocked? I am not. I'm going to go talk to our daughter, and when I come down, you need to compose yourself and then talk to her yourself. Someone was taking nude photographs of our daughter when she was vulnerable. We need to be supportive of her, not screaming at her and scolding her for doing what a teenager does."

I put my fingers to my mouth as I softly blinked away budding tears. All I wanted was a daughter that was like me. A daughter that was strong, but without being overly so. I wanted a tender daughter that I could have shopping trips with. But the daughter I got was vivacious, and like her father. She didn't let me crowd her space often, yet, if I ever needed her, she was always there for me.

I realized at that moment that she used to be like me. When Kevin took his own life, I stopped bonding with her, and I guess we grew so far apart that I had very little influence on her anymore.

I was worried what that would mean later.