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Mother and daughter is a complicated term, far too complex for most to understand, yet it seemed simple enough at first glance; mother takes care of daughter, and daughter becomes a mother — problems arose when the mother forgot where mother ended and daughter started. It's an endless cycle, one Angie couldn't seem to shake off.
She liked her mom — sometimes, and her mom liked her — sometimes. Angelica had to be careful, most of the time.
Her ears got used to listening for the slightest sigh, or the miniscule movement of the corner of her lips; contempt, Angie learned from a psychology textbook. Contempt is what she felt when she would stare at her daughter when she was having one of her bouts of catatonia, or when the rage wiped through their small trailer home. It came in flashes; in screams that ripped at the throats of anyone who dared fight it, in colorful words that no sane mother would use against her child — it was a constantly burning match, one that never got put out, but was not always destructive. The rage visited often.
When it "wasn't destructive", Julie tried to be good — she gave her daughter parts of her disability money to "Buy something nice." as she claimed, or pretended to be the Cool Mom to her friends, the one who bought them booze and let them bum around in her living room before a party. Angie's friends were Julie's friends — mi casa tu casa. Some nights, Julie felt bad. She felt bad about the things she said to Angie, when she would point out how much food she had, or when the rage came back.
Julie swore it'd never happen again, she swore it would stay away this time — just like all of the other times as Angie sat stiffly and held her mother, like a mother should a daughter. But the daughter held the mother like she wanted to be held. Maybe one day she'd return the favor.
Once the rage stopped coming around.
Her mom blamed her mother, for the ache that always lingered in Angie's chest, for the monsters that plagued her brain and the shadows that were there. Angie never saw them. She did, however, meet her grandmother on multiple occasions — not many, but multiple. Belladonna Olsen loved to dote on her grandbabies, especially the girls, as she twirled their hair and kissed their heads like children, no matter how old they were.
