Fight Or Flight

Chapter 9 - Music

Chapter 9 - Music

It was Friday and school was over for another week. But Mum made me do my weekend homework as soon as I got in. Adam and I were going to the pictures later that night. We'd arranged it earlier in the week and I'd been looking forward to it all day.

As I as sat at the kitchen table doing my homework, Adam texted me to say that his Mum and Dad were going out, too; something he hadn't realised until he got home and he told them he'd arranged to go to the pictures. But now he wouldn't be able to go out. His parents had booked to go to see a musical in Liverpool weeks ago. He'd completely forgotten, he said. He'd have to look after his younger sister. He didn't ask me to come over and babysit, and I didn't offer to go over to his house, either.

He texted me apologising three or four times that night. But I deleted them all. And didn't text him back.

I was upset and moody for the rest of the night and Mum kept on at me, asking me when I was going to get ready.

"I'm not going," I replied. "I've binned it off." I went back to my homework and began working through the list of maths problems.

"Oh," she replied, "I thought you and Adam were getting on really well. You're never off that phone to him lately.

I ignored her.

"Is there any reason why you aren't going?"

"I'm just not! Okay! I'm staying in. And don't worry, I'll do the rest of the homework tomorrow." I left the table and went to sit in the other room to watch some telly. I pushed my little sister off the comfy chair and switched over from the shitty kids channel she was watching to a music channel.

She started screaming and shouting.

Mum followed me into the other room. "What's going on?" she asked, as Emily - my little sister - ran crying to her about how I'd come in and turned over her favourite TV programme.

"Switch that back to what Emily was watching, you can't take your bad mood out on all of us," she said.

I threw the remote back to my sister. "Here, have it," I said. It hit her on the knee. It couldn't have hurt her that much, but she still let out a loud scream. Mum came in and asked what was up now?

"And I was sitting there, too, mum," she cried, pointing to the chair I was sat on.

"I'm not moving," I said.

"God, I wish you were going out. I don't think I could bear to look at your miserable gob all night," Mum said.

"Fine!" I stood up and stomped to the door. "I'll just stay in my room all night then. Would hate to ruin your night, too. Snotty bitch."

I slammed the door but Mum had heard the last part of what I had said and followed me out and up the stairs.

"What did you call me?" she asked from the bottom of the stairs.

"Deaf now are you!" I shouted back.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that!" she said following me up the stairs.

For the next hour or so we had a terrible argument. At one point I was locked in the bathroom, she was shouting from the outside, and I said some horrible things to her. She was in tears at one point and, when I eventually opened the door and headed to my bedroom, she grabbed hold of me.

"Do you know who I am?" she shouted.

"Bit of stupid question isn't it?" I answered.

"I carried you in here for nine months," she pointed to her stomach. "I've fed, clothed, kept you warm for sixteen years. All because I love you. And this is how you repay all that hard graft, all that care and love. You selfish bitch!"