Captive - FourTris

Twenty

MARCH 19
6 MONTHS, 19 DAYS

I'm in my room when she comes home. I had hoped I wouldn't see her today.

It's my birthday. I'm eighteen, and today I plan to leave and never come back.

I'm not going far. Just to Tobias's apartment across town. It's his, not mine, but I will stay there. I just feel like an unwanted house guest here.

I'm tired of my mom. I'm tired of the fights. Every time she sees me, she brings him up. He is all I am to her, and until he is gone, I am no one. She uses every second she can to poke at him, pick at our relationship, to find the cracks and exploit them.

If she thinks that's going to make me choose her over him, she's wrong.

I'm tired of having to defend him to her. She doesn't understand that he's going to be someone. She doesn't get that he may seem like a bad person on the outside, he may be aloof or cold, but if you give him a chance, he's so much more.

Even though all his life people have put him down, he wants so much to get out of it. He got his GED when he was sixteen, after his dad made it hard to get to school every day.

He started working right away, saving for the day he could move out and get his own place. He'll triumph even after all his dad has done to keep him down. These are the things I see in him. The way he makes lemonade out of lemons.

It's not his fault his life is one big lemon. All he needs is for people to give him a chance. I think one day, when we have some money saved up, we will move away and get a place far from home. And we will start over, and he will leave everything behind and forget everyone who doubts him.

Together we will find happiness again. We will take back everything that was robbed from him.

From me.

My mum proved exactly what he said: that people see him and judge him and don't give him a chance.

My stomach sinks when I hear the gentle hum of the garage door. I knew I should have left the rest of this stuff. I knew it. I could have gone back to Tobias's and forgotten all about it, and avoided seeing her.

I could have written her a note, explaining it all. Maybe I could have said something nice, because I would have done it alone, not in the heat of the moment. Maybe it would have helped us.

But I know now we'll have to talk, and the words will run away from us and we'll both say too much.

Her footsteps creak on the stairway. I freeze.

My door is open and she will see me on the way to her room. It's too late to hide.

I just keep stuffing things in the duffle bag like I don't care if she sees me. Like it won't shock her to realize I'm leaving.

It's not like she planned anything for my eighteenth birthday anyway. I'm not that girl anymore. The one who has cake and burgers and opens presents at the dining room table.

She knows it, just like I know it. There's no reason to pretend anymore.

She passes the door before stopping. I know she's just three feet down the hall, but she doesn't make a sound. Several long seconds tick by as I keep shoving stuff into the bottom of the bag. Why isn't she speaking?

Why hasn't she come back?

And then she does. She stands in the doorway, filling it as she leans against one side of the doorframe and crosses her arms. Her hair is lighter than it was last I saw her. But the bags under her eyes are bigger, thicker, puffier. She looks haunted.

"Don't," she says, so quietly I'm not sure I heard it at all.

It's the only word she says. I just stare back at her, and then stuff a hooded sweatshirt into the bag. I'm afraid if I say anything, it'll all come out. All the bitterness of all the years between us without a single I love you.

The thought of all those wasted years, waiting for her to act like she used to, waiting for her to hug me and tuck me in at night, stabs into me like a jagged knife, and I try hard not to dwell on it. I try hard to pretend I don't care, just like she does.

Except I don't think she's pretending anymore. Maybe before Tobias came along we could have fixed it. Back then there weren't a bunch of harsh words between us.

There were just three unspoken ones. I bet I could have gotten them out of her. I bet she would have meant them, too.

But not now. Now everything's ruined. I might as well just be with him all the time, because I'm pretty sure she hates me now. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her, too.
I don't, though. I love her so much it hurts.

Something deep inside aches to drop the bags and rush to her and wrap my arms around her and wait for her to do the same to me, even though she never would. She's the ice queen, and she'll never thaw. And that's why I have to get out of here.

I walk up to her and we stand like that, neither of us looking at each other. I just look at the strap on my duffel bag as I twist it around in my hands.

"He's not good enough for you," she says.

"You don't know him."

"Why do you have to be with him? I know you want to help him. Why can't you do that as friends?"

"I don't want to be just friends with him. I love him," I say, anger edging into my voice. I knew she would do this.

This is why I didn't want to see her. This is why I avoid her. She takes my one piece of happiness and twists it into something ugly.

"You think you love him. You're seventeen." She uncrosses and recrosses her arms, like she's trying to look angry and serious and in charge, but I don't care.

"Eighteen," I say. My anger is boiling now. I hate that she does this. Every single time I see her, she does this. I don't want to be in the same room with her anymore if all we're going to do is have the same argument over and over again. There are no winners, only losers, and I'm tired of being one of them.

"You wanted to go to college, Tris." She pushes away from the doorframe to stand at her full height, staring straight at me and daring me to disagree.

"College has nothing to do with him!"

She takes a step into the room, her sensible little grey pumps sinking into the carpet. "It's not just a coincidence. It's about him. You've had college plans for years, and then six months with him and it changes. You don't know what you want anymore."

"Yes, I do! And I want to be with him. Not here. Not with you. All you ever do is put him down. You're just like his dad."

I want to leave, right now, before I break my teeth from clenching them so hard. But I won't touch her, and she's in my way. I sling the duffel over my shoulder and walk up to her, staring at the space between her eyes instead of looking her in the eyes.

"He's the reason you've given everything up. He's not worth it."

"Don't, Mum," I say, desperate for her to stop before I snap. "Please, just shut up."

The words bite. I see it in her face. But I have to stop her.

"Please, just don't," I say, quieter this time.

She steps aside and I rush past before I can apologize. Before I can break down.

I hate that our relationship has boiled down to Tobias and nothing else. I don't know why she can't see past him to be there for me.

I want this to end. I want it all over. I want her to rush after me and tell me she loves me and just wants what's best for me, and that she won't judge me if I think that's something different than she does. But she never will. I see that now.

And that is why I'm leaving.