Post by Kathy on Nov 4, 2002 0:40:14 GMT -5
I wrote this when I was 18 (I'm 23 now) for a college class. It's basicly just describing something that happened between my parents and I. Until a few days ago we had never spoken of that night. They had been under the assumption that I was straight. Last week I wrote them a letter telling them the truth. I haven't gotten a response from them yet, not sure if I ever will, but I guess we'll see.
No Mama
By Kathy M.
It was late-probably around two a.m. I was up because I had slept most of the day due to the flue. My parents were asleep, so I figured I would read a bit. The reason I had waited until they went to sleep was because of the content of the book. The title was Women on Women, lesbian short fiction.
I sat in my bed under the covers, dressed in my pajama, reading the book. Suddenly, the door burst open. I hastily threw the book under my pillow. My mother’s furious eyes looked at me from the end of my bed. She questioned me as to why I was up late, when I was too sick to go to school the day before. Then she asked what I had feared she would ask, “What are you reading?”.
My heart stopped and I froze. Looking as guilty as possible I said, “Nothing”. She screamed at me to hand over the book. I refused to give it to her. We struggled a bit until she snatched it from me.
I watched as her eyes scanned and read the title. Trembling, I awaited her reaction. She started low and somewhat quiet and then progressed until she was screaming, “You freak!”.
Her hands were clenched tightly on the thick book. I cowered in terror as she screamed. The book crashed down on my head and tears streamed down my cheeks. I shielded my face and screamed for help.
Somehow, my mother ended up straddling me. She had dropped the book and was now using her hands to rip at my hair. She was still screaming at me, “You freak! Get out of my house! I hate you!”.
The door to my bedroom opened a second time and my Dad stood there, bewildered. “What the hell’s going on?” I screamed at him to help me. He questioned my mother, who was still pummeling me, but she ignored him.
It seemed like an eternity before he took my mother away from me. As she showed him the book, I ran out of the room. I went to the kitchen to dial the police, but the phone was off the hook in my room.
While I was in the kitchen my mother ripped down posters and broke nick-knacks in my room. She came out and demanded that I leave her house. I bolted out the front door of my home. In bare feet and half blind without my glasses, I sprinted across the gravel drive way. I ran down the road a ways until I realized there was nowhere to hide. I then turned around and ran back towards my house.
I ended up in my neighbors yard. I hid on their back porch and listened. I heard my parents calling for me. They searched around the house and then got in the car. As they approached my hiding spot, my heart beat faster. Finally, the car moved on. However, I still did not feel safe, because I feared they would find me there. I leapt up and started running towards the nearest busy street. I still was not thinking clearly when I arrived there. I didn’t know if I was there to hitch hike or throw myself in front of a car. All I knew was that I wanted to be away from the pain and confusion.
Bright lights pieced my eyes as I stood in the middle of the intersection. As the lights got closer, I heard my parents’ car in the background. My dad yelled for me. The other car was still drawing nearer. I couldn’t tell if I was more scared of the car coming towards me, or my parents finding me. Finally, I answered my dad’s call.
No Mama
By Kathy M.
It was late-probably around two a.m. I was up because I had slept most of the day due to the flue. My parents were asleep, so I figured I would read a bit. The reason I had waited until they went to sleep was because of the content of the book. The title was Women on Women, lesbian short fiction.
I sat in my bed under the covers, dressed in my pajama, reading the book. Suddenly, the door burst open. I hastily threw the book under my pillow. My mother’s furious eyes looked at me from the end of my bed. She questioned me as to why I was up late, when I was too sick to go to school the day before. Then she asked what I had feared she would ask, “What are you reading?”.
My heart stopped and I froze. Looking as guilty as possible I said, “Nothing”. She screamed at me to hand over the book. I refused to give it to her. We struggled a bit until she snatched it from me.
I watched as her eyes scanned and read the title. Trembling, I awaited her reaction. She started low and somewhat quiet and then progressed until she was screaming, “You freak!”.
Her hands were clenched tightly on the thick book. I cowered in terror as she screamed. The book crashed down on my head and tears streamed down my cheeks. I shielded my face and screamed for help.
Somehow, my mother ended up straddling me. She had dropped the book and was now using her hands to rip at my hair. She was still screaming at me, “You freak! Get out of my house! I hate you!”.
The door to my bedroom opened a second time and my Dad stood there, bewildered. “What the hell’s going on?” I screamed at him to help me. He questioned my mother, who was still pummeling me, but she ignored him.
It seemed like an eternity before he took my mother away from me. As she showed him the book, I ran out of the room. I went to the kitchen to dial the police, but the phone was off the hook in my room.
While I was in the kitchen my mother ripped down posters and broke nick-knacks in my room. She came out and demanded that I leave her house. I bolted out the front door of my home. In bare feet and half blind without my glasses, I sprinted across the gravel drive way. I ran down the road a ways until I realized there was nowhere to hide. I then turned around and ran back towards my house.
I ended up in my neighbors yard. I hid on their back porch and listened. I heard my parents calling for me. They searched around the house and then got in the car. As they approached my hiding spot, my heart beat faster. Finally, the car moved on. However, I still did not feel safe, because I feared they would find me there. I leapt up and started running towards the nearest busy street. I still was not thinking clearly when I arrived there. I didn’t know if I was there to hitch hike or throw myself in front of a car. All I knew was that I wanted to be away from the pain and confusion.
Bright lights pieced my eyes as I stood in the middle of the intersection. As the lights got closer, I heard my parents’ car in the background. My dad yelled for me. The other car was still drawing nearer. I couldn’t tell if I was more scared of the car coming towards me, or my parents finding me. Finally, I answered my dad’s call.
