No Goodbye

Just another nightmare

I storm off to my room and slam the door behind me. I can still hear my mom screaming at me from the family room. I put my headphones in and blast my music to the point where I can’t even hear my own thoughts. I don’t want to hear them. They’re all about him and my passionate hate for myself.

I notice the door handle being turned rapidly from side to side, but the door won’t open. Locked. I take one of my headphones out and hear my mom pounding on my door, demanding it to be opened. I throw my phone and headphones onto the bed and stomp to the door. I open it to my mom screaming at me again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She yells.

“Me? What the hell is wrong with you!” I throw back. “I have done absolutely nothing wrong! Why can’t you understand that I have a broken heart? Why can’t you be my mother and be there for me instead of getting mad at me every day for crying and trying my best to cope?”

She stood there awestruck. It’s rare that I yell back at my mom, accusing of her of neglecting me. I was on my last nerve, though, and she put me over the top. I felt instantly sick to my stomach after I said that, but it was true. Every day for the past week her and dad constantly berate me on not having a life and needing to get off my a*s and do something with myself, to get over it and have fun with my friends. It’s not that easy. It’s not that easy to pick yourself back up and piece your own self together after having your heart ripped out of your chest again. Coping isn’t one of my strong suits.

“You treat me like s**t! You don’t talk to me about anything, you just ignore me and hold it all in. How am I supposed to know how you feel when you ignore me all day, every day? I have tried over and over to ask you to talk to me about what’s going on.” She says.

“I can’t talk to anyone. I just can’t. It’s just me. I can’t bring myself to talk about what’s going on because I am so tired of breaking down and crying. All I want to do is stop crying for one day and the only way I can do that is if I ignore everyone and push them away. I can’t help it! You don’t understand me, nobody does! I can’t even get out of my own head and I’m drowning in these thoughts of myself and him. I just want to be left alone.”

We stand there in silence for a few moments, our words hanging in the air, full of regret and sadness. She turns and walks away. A minute later I hear her car start and I look out the window. She drives away with speed. My heart sinks and I sit in my room and cry.

Hours went by and I still sat there, my eyes wet from fresh tears. Where was she? Where did she go and when was she coming back? Questions filled my head and I just wanted my mother. I just wanted to cry on her shoulder and listen to her tell me it was going to be okay. We will make up, I told myself. We will make up and hug and I’ll tell her everything, no matter how hard it is.

Another hour goes by and the doorbell rings. I wait for my dad to get it because I look like a train wreck. I peak out the window and see a cop car in the driveway. My eyebrow arches, I’m confused. But then I hear it. My dad screams. I run out of my room and down the hall to find him breaking down on the hard floor. He’s crying harder than I’ve ever seen anyone cry. I look over at the cop and then it hits me. She’s gone. And it’s all my fault.

. . .

I’m awake. My mother and I had a similar fight in the past, but I was the one who left. I started having the nightmare the night that it happened, even though we made up a couple hours later. This nightmare haunts me every time I get into a fight with her. Sometimes you don’t realize your mom is your best friend until it’s too late.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is an excellent short story that shows instead of tells (good thing!) The scenario is realistic & relatable for any two people who are arguing, then one may not have the chance to come back together again, due to bad circumstances & timing. Your dialogue feels right for a teenage person going thru heartbreak. I love the way this switches to a dream at the end, too. Nicely imaginative way to make your important point.

In a couple places, the wording sounds clunky, like in the 2nd paragraph: "demanding it to be opened." This is passive voice & it would be more powerful if written in active voice . . . example, using dialogue: "Open up! Open up!" When you find yourself describing what is being said, it can be put into dialogue & it feels more immediate. But all in all, your writing is naturally flowing & strong . . . (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Natasha]

Wow, thank you so much. I really appreciate your feedback and I agree with your example.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right dear Natasha. We learn the value of people when we don't have them no-more. Thank you for sharing the worthwhile chapter.
Coyote

[Zephyr]

A gripping chapter that I devoured straight and hard.
The dialogues and the narrative is well written.
And yes, mothers are our best friends.
Only many realise it when its too late.
Thanks for sharing:)

[Natasha]

Thank you so much! I totally agree