Chapter Text
The only sound I heard in the Texas trailer park was my own breath and some couple grilling dinner down the road. In front of me was a small trailer, but with no car to pull it. It shocked me so much. This…this was my mother’s house.
I held my breath, waiting for her to answer. Finally, the door swung open, and I saw a frail, middle-aged woman in front of me. She looked like she hadn’t showered or brushed her hair or changed her clothes in days. She was only about 50, but she looked older than she should have, hands shaking. The smell of stale smoke and cheap wine wafted outside.
I took a shaky breath. “Hey, mom.”
She still stood there, unmoving.
Then she hugged me and burst into tears.“Ann! Thank God! When the police called me saying they found you, I didn’t really believe them. I thought they’d found someone who looked like you, but…now you’re here and it’s really you and…” She faltered, and hugged me tighter.
I felt tears begin to form in my eyes, then squeezed her tight. I hadn’t hugged my mom like this in…forever.
13 years, actually.
“Do you have any idea what you put me through?” she whispered.
“I…I’m sorry, mother,” I said. I knew my mother meant well, but…
I didn’t think about it too hard.
She let go of me. “Come in. Sorry if it’s a bit of a mess in here. I…haven’t had a chance to clean it.”
I stepped in, and the cheap wine and smoke smell got worse. The inside of the trailer was trashed—cheap furniture with weird stains, prescription bottles scattered everywhere, and the ashtray on the counter was overflowing.
“…M-Mom, what is all of this?” I asked. I’d never seen my mother like this.
“Well, I’m sure you probably remember how your father and I were fighting a lot. After you left me, it got worse and worse until it got to the point where we didn’t want to be married anymore. He divorced me and took everything with him. The house…the horses…and the money. All because you left. I was even paid by your dad’s company to stay quiet about the whole thing.”
Shame ran through me. My mother had always manipulated me before, but me going missing added gas to the flame. She’s the reason I always wanted to make people happy around me. I didn’t want anyone to be hurt by me. But I think in reality…I didn’t want people to hurt me. It felt. selfish. But it was still real. I remembered the company my dad worked for. It was a big tech and video game company.
“You’ll stay here, won’t you Ann? Not like you have anywhere else to go. You’ve driven yourself back to the rock bottom,” my mother said.
I almost started to say I’m sorry. I almost wanted to stay and care for my mother. But I realized that if I kept cleaning up people’s messes, they would never pick themselves back up. They would rely completely on me.
Even after my childhood, I still loved my mother. I wanted what was best for her. And what was best for my mother right now is for her to take care of herself.
“Mom, I didn’t choose to leave. I didn’t even leave. I…I was taken.”
“I gave up EVERYTHING for you, and this is how you treat me, Ann?” she yells. I don’t flinch. I don’t raise my voice, either.
“I’m not treating you like you’re garbage. I’m treating you like my mother. I’m not blaming you for anything, YOU ARE. You’re blaming me for losing everything and running yourself down on drugs and alcohol. YOU chose that, Mom. I didn't choose any of this for you. I haven’t gotten to choose anything for myself in thirteen years. Thirteen years, Mom. Do you know how that feels?”
“I know what it feels like to have a selfish, lazy daughter! In all of your 30 years of life, that’s all you’ve ever been!” my mother yells, poison laced in her voice.
I felt like I’d been struck. It hurt more than I could fathom having the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who was supposed to LOVE me, tell me I’m selfish and lazy. It made me want to crawl into a hole and cry for the rest of my life.
“I have worked SO hard my entire life,” I whispered, a tear streaking down my cheek. “I have had to take care of myself since I was 10 years old. I went into real estate just to make you happy for me. All I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me. I didn’t CHOOSE to be the way I am in your eyes.”
My mother was silent, except for her hand shaking.
But I wasn’t going to wait for her to respond.
“Goodbye, Mom. I hope you can work out your life,” I whispered, then turned around and went out the door.
As I walked back to my car, my mother was shouting behind me. “Don’t walk away from me again! If you go into that car, I won’t consider you my daughter anymore!”
I kept walking. I opened my car door. I got in. I closed it.
At that moment, I felt more free than I’ve ever felt. Because I’d chosen something for myself. Not for my mom. Not for my friends. For MYSELF.