Play the Game ~ R O G E R T A Y L O R ~

2

It's 8:30 at night, and I have go go buy boxes to pack my belongings in because we never keep them around after opening things. We throw them out. Thankfully, my mother is in her bedroom doing God knows what, so I grab my house keys and purse, then head down to my local convenience store, which is thankfully in walking distance of my apartment. I enter through the doors and head straight to the office supply and packaging section. I grab as many boxes as possible, not knowing how many I'd need, and trot to the cash register. There's someone in front of me. He smells a lot like cigarettes, and funnily enough, he's buying more. He has black, long hair and a very prominent nose. As he turns to pay, I see his side profile, which is quite gorgeous. He begins making jokes and smiling this..beautiful smile at the cashier. I've never seen him around, but so many people come to visit New Orleans, so it isn't that shocking. Plus he's British, so he's definitely not from around here. He thanks the lady and walks out. I get to the counter and the woman working there seems to be around in her late 40's. She scans my items, then looks up and me and smirks.

"That last boy was somethin', huh?" She chuckles softly, her Cajun accent shining through her slightly crooked teeth.

I look out the door once more and smile myself.

"Yeah. He sure was."
———————

I get home and run upstairs to the comfort of my own bedroom, and begin packing. I separated my boxes into different categories. Three for clothes, three for appliances, three for little nick nacks, and 3 for miscellaneous items. I get this done in less than 2 hours, which gives me about 5 hours of sleep before I have to be up and out of this house. I close my eyes as I sleep one last time in the comfort of my childhood home.
—-
I get up the next morning with a pounding headache. It's almost unbearable. Nevertheless, I get out of bed slowly, trying not to black out, and begin to tape all my boxes shut. My mom bursts in through my room.

"G-grace? What are you doing?" She has a bottle of, you guessed it, red wine in her left hand and a bottle of, you guessed it again, Jack Daniels in her right. I look at her with an uninterested face.

"You told me to move out. Do you not remember," I take a step closer to her.

"or did you pass out and forget?"

She looks at me with a concerned face, almost as if she's sobering up.

"When did I say that?"

"Yesterday morning. You threw your fucking wine glass at me and told me to be gone by Thursday. So I'm leaving." I turn around on my heel and resume packing up my boxes. I don't hear her move for a while. I then hear her take a step back.

"Grace. I didn't mean that."

I look at her from behind me and squint my eyes.

"Oh. You didn't? Then why have you done this my whole life, huh? Why have you never taken care of me the way a real mother should? Dad left you because you cheated on him. Then you turned to alcohol, but no. You never meant for me to move out. It obviously seems like you don't want me here."

I push past her with all my boxes and bags in hand and walk down the stairs to my car. I hear her put down her bottles of wine and liquor and run after me. I place my boxes in the back seat of my car and then climb into the drivers seat. She knocks on my window and I roll it down.

"That is no w-way to talk to your mother!" She says, exasperated.

"Yeah? And this is no way to treat your daughter."

And then I drove off.