As the car engine roars to life, I feel her seething rage. She waits until Karasuma goes back inside to start her scolding and any small flicker of hope I had left is immediately extinguished as she slaps my face. I feel the sting of her hand against my cheek.
The sharp glass of her ring slices my skin leaving a line of red in its wake.
It's almost comedic to think of what used to be. They used to be happy. She used to be happy. The perfect young couple that fell in love and dreamed of a new life together, a house near the city with a white picket fence and crystal clear windows to let all the light in. Dreams of a little girl with a loving mother and father and maybe a dog or cat for fun. It's pointless to dwell on how things could have been if they had just gone a bit differently. If I wasn't born would they still be happy? If I was the perfect daughter she always dreamed of, that straight A student she wants me to be, would things be better?
Unfortunately for all involved, I was born a boy, a disappointment, and a failure. So she's forced to pretend. She wears her ring like dad never left. She draws the curtains closed and plasters a terrifying smile on her face, and pretends I could still appease her. She pretends that I am that perfect daughter. She pretends all the abuse and pain never happened. Then every once in a while I'll slip up. I'll do something stupid and break the facade and the carefully woven strings that hold her together snap. She breaks, let's put all her anger, all her pain. She blames me for it all and uses me as a lightning rod as she lets out her rage. I can't blame her, I do the same, one glance at my arms and thighs tells you all you need to know. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and my pain is a surprising good tool to soak up all the sadness. It makes me feel alive again. Maybe she feels the same when she hits me.
"I can't believe you! You little slut! Dragging me all the way down here just to tell some sob story and waste the nice gentleman's time," my mother hissed, her voice dripping with disgust.
"You wasted all our time over nothing! You know full well that you deserved it for acting like that, seducing him like the whore we all know you are"
Her words always cut deeper than her knives. I can handle pain. I'm used to pain. Words just hit different.
"You and I both know damn well you were asking for it. You deserve this honestly, looking like that. It's an honor he thought a whore like you was beautiful enough to be desirable, you miserable swine!"
She turns the key and pulls out of the parking lot in fit of rage. She's dangerous like this, I just pray she doesn't hurt anyone else. I can take it. I deserve it after all. The random person she hits on the street doesn't. They're innocent. I hate that I can't protect them from her. I can't protect anyone from her. The only way to keep her stable is to let her take out her anger on me and avoid making it worse by upsetting her. I shouldn't have gone to see karma. That was so selfish and petty. I'm such an asshole.
"I mean, look at what you were wearing! Your hair all tied with ribbons, that tiny skirt, the makeup! You were practically begging for it! I thought I raised you better than that!"
With those words I feel my anger bubble to the surface. She's the one that dressed me that day. This is her fault. I know I should keep quiet. She can't be reasoned with, so speaking now is quite possibly the worst possible time to decide to grow a pair, but stupid is as stupid does the old adage says and who am I to question it's ancient wisdom?
"But mom, you dressed me that day?"
I match her sickly sweet facade in a mocking tone only to be met with a another slap and a hand wrapped around my throat.
"Did I give you permission to speak?" she snapped through gritted teeth. For mere seconds she takes both hands off the wheel and sends me flying into the car door banging my still aching head against the window hard. The car swerved and she panics, turning her focus back to the road with her grip now tightened on the steering wheel, the vehicle now swerving back before stabilizing.
