What A Girl Wants: With A Twist (BWWM)

Back To Reality

Aria POV

"Aria get yo ass in this house right now!", I heard my mom scream, her voice echoing throughout the neighborhood.

"Fuck", I cursed under my breath,"Looks like they called her"

I sighed before getting get up out of the bushes and walking onto the porch to where my mom was standing there.

She didn't look happy at all, gripping the door handle in a tight fist as she eyeballs me. "Get in the house NOW!", she ordered through gritted teeth.

Oh I was dead, big time.

I did as ordered, walking into the house, the door slamming shut as she followed behind me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!", she yelled at me,"You're out here fighting people! Again!"

"She started it!", I pointed out, crossing my arms. She was running her mouth, so I had to handle her. If she wouldn't have pulled a knife out on me, her and her sisters would still have their teeth.

"I don't care!", she screamed,"You know better Aria, every single time it's someone else's fault!"

"Because it is", I muttered under my breath. Everybody seem to like talking about me like I won't beat they ass. I could be minding my own business and guy or girl, they'd would think I was some weak bitch and try to punk me.

My mom was still livid for some reason, her nostrils flared in anger. If she wasn't so short, I would be scared, but I had more than 5 inches on her so seeing as she was craning her neck to scold me, she lost scare points big time. I'm glad I didn't get my height from her.

"Don't you see the issue Aria? You just turned 17 and in a year you'll be 18; you could go to jail for this shit!"

Here she goes with this shit. Every single time, she loved to bring up how I could go to jail or die and that I was a young black woman in America and all that shit. It got on my last nerve, like a damn broken record.

"I don't know what to do with you Aria! It's like you refuse to listen to me!", she ranted and I suddenly had enough with all of this.

"God all you do is yell at me!", I moaned, throwing my hands up in aggravation,"No wonder dad left!", I said out loud without thinking.

It was dead silent for a moment, my mom looked as if I had kicked her in the gut,"W- what did you just say?", she asked, face frozen in disbelief.

I knew I had hit way below the belt with my comment but I couldn't stop, myself,"You heard me!", I yelled; this conversation had been a long time coming and it was time I get this all out. "You always say he walked out on us and never looked back, but let's face it: he walked on you!" He had left long before I was in the equation. Maybe if she was a better person I would actually have a father in my life.

Mom didn't say anything, she just had a blank look on her face. I knew I had hurt her, but she had hurt me too. She took away my opportunity to have a father in my life. I couldn't force myself to say anything.

Mom just plodded down on the couch, her hands over her face. Regret filled my entire being,"Mom I-"

"Just go to your room", she said quietly and I could tell she was crying. God I had made her cry.

I backed away from her, bumping into the coffee table in the process. I ignored the pain, booking it up the stairs and into my room.

I threw myself onto my bed, releasing all my tears. I wish my life were different. I wish I had friends. I wished people didn't look at me and treat me like a freak of nature because of my heterochromia. I wish I didn't hurt my mother so much; she's done so much for me and I knew being a single parent wasn't easy but it's like all I did was make her life hard. No wonder dad left; who'd want a daughter like me.

Wiping away my tears, I sat up on my bed before reaching into my bedside drawer, pulling out my birthday scrapbook. Whenever I felt down, I'd look at it.

I flipped open the book, finding the desired page almost immediately as if from muscle memory. There were two pictures, one on each page. One was a picture of my dad from back in the day and the other was a picture of mom and him together.

My fingertips traced over the Polaroid pictures and I couldn't help but smile. They looked so happy together and so in love.

These were my most valuable possessions; the only thing I had of my father besides a letter I stole from my mom years ago. I kept it hidden under my mattress for the day I went to find him whenever that was; I hoped it would answer any questions he might have.

I didn't know I had started crying until a fat tear drop splashed on the page. I always felt so out of place here, like I was missing something in my life. Him. It hurt to grow up surrounded by happy nuclear families while all I had was my mom. Of course I was grateful for everything she did for me, but a small part of me resented her for allowing him to walk out of our lives.

I always told myself that once I met him my life would be complete, we'd be a big happy family again. I knew deep down my mom still loved him even after all this time. The way her eyes would light up and she'd smile talking about the old days. How she admitted that it was hard to look me in the eyes sometimes because they reminded her so much of his.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with too much emotion, closing the scrapbook and throwing it on my bed. I brought my knees to my chest, silently crying.

I wish my life was different.

I wish I had friends to confide in instead of my overbearing mother.

I wished I fit in.

I wished that I didn't feel like something was missing from my life. I was 17 years old, I shouldn't be wanting the approval of a man who abandoned us, but a part of me wanted to believe that he didn't know what all he gave up. That he accidentally walked out on me.

It was then that I decided what I was going to do; I was gonna find him.