The Outsiders Imagines

Playtimes Over

Okay guys so hope u enjoy this long poem, sorry for typos, but i feel as this sums up modern times in some cases. 

Playtimes Over

By: Lourdes Marmol

Playtimes over

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I sat and watched my mommy as her dress glowed under the dim light as she reached into her makeup bag and grabbed her lipstick. I remember it all, I remember wanting to be just like her. My eyes glowed with admiration, as I sneaked the rich cherry stick, I want to be just like mommy, I had said. She spotted me and laughed wholeheartedly.

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I looked over at my beautiful daughter; I saw she’s gotten ahold of my makeup. I giggled seeing the lipstick all over her chin. She smiled innocently and said mommy I want to be just like you. I had smiled and I put her into one of my elegant cocktail satin dresses and slipped her into my mini black closed-toe pumps. It’s just a harmless game I repeated to myself, just a harmless game, or so I thought.

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I was twelve and had just started middle school when I decided I didn’t want to be just like my mother, I wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to wear makeup, I wanted to look like every other girl, and I wanted to fit in, finally I was popular, I had 1000 followers on instagram. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Every weekend I would go out with people I didn’t even know but hey I was popular. Then my mom asked me to bond with her and at the time that was the last thing I wanted to do so I had rejected her and in that moment I had seen pain flash through her eyes but I didn’t care.

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My daughter had only been o fifteen, straying away from me slowly until she would only asked me for money to go out, with who? I couldn’t have told you because I didn’t know myself. I asked her if she wanted to talk or go out over the weekend and all she did was roll her eyes. My baby, she’s was growing up. Everyday her shorts had gotten shorter, her shirts tighter and tighter, and her attitude bigger and bigger. I asked her to sit down and eat at the table, she grabbed her plate, had gone to her room and typed on her phone, she had, had 3000 followers then. Who is this? Who is she?

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I was sixteen, becoming older, more independent, and free, well minus the free part. I could never be free, even though I had a car, my parents would always track me down from my phone to see where I was going. “ Mom why are you stalking me through this stupid app, its pointless!” I yelled. “ To keep you safe, what if something serious happens?” she replied. “Mom this is stupid, its like your stalking me and im really angry that you couldn’t trust me, ugh mom I hate you!” I had screamed. I could see the tears watering up her eyes, as she ran up the stairs sobbing. I was too angry to feel sorry, I mean it was her fault; I never do anything at all.

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She had been eighteen when she started applying for colleges. Her grades sucked, she basically failed the SAT’S, and she had been rarely showing up to school from all the phone calls I’ve received touching that topic. My baby, never in the house, never in my sights. Why had she become so bitter toward me? I felt non-existent,

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I was twenty-one when I dropped out of community college and started working full time as a waitress.  I hated college it was too much work, all my friends were in college so I still went to the frat parties and I lived with one of them barely being able to pay rent.

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She hadn’t called me or contacted me since she was twenty-eight, asking me for money to help support her. Now she’s 40 and I’m growing old, too old. Lately I’ve been suffering from cancer, stage 4. Its hard to have faith and to be positive when im dying all alone. I want to hold my daughters hand, I want to talk to her as I live my last days. I don’t think the cancer will kill me, im already dead; I died when my daughter, my sunshine, was taken away from me, leaving me with grey skies. My world has been filled with darkness as I sit here, here being a hospital room, where I have been dying slowly and painfully for months. I’ve lost all my hair from the chemo, I have scars everywhere, and for the past few days I’ve been swelling up like a squirrel, my days are drawing to an end. On my last day of life I was in critical condition with my body all blue and purple, my lips blue as the night, my face swelled up like a chipmunk, and pain coursing through my body. This morning I was transferred into hospice, where I take a butt load of morphine and await my death. So I sat there high off of morphine acting silly as the hours go by, I knew my daughter wouldn’t come so I tried to numb the pain with morphine and it indeed worked. At 12:30 I requested ice cream, cookies and cream to be exact, as I was devouring that I spilt it on my gown, I got it all in my hair, I was a hot mess.

2:30 I could feel it now, my body was beginning to shut down slowly, and it was painful, very painful. I was scared, no terrified, at my final minutes. I was turning purple and I began swelling even more. I just wan to see my daughter. I JUST WANT TO SEE MY DAUGHTER. I love her. I will never forget that moment when –

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September 28th, 2014 she died, back then I hadn’t known since I hadn’t contacted her, I was too busy with life. So now I stand here at her grave September 28th, 2024 crying and bawling, why didn’t I love her enough? Why did I push her away? Why was I so selfish? Why wasn’t I a good daughter? I sink to my knees with emptiness all around. I let the warm salty tears run down my face ruining my makeup because in this moment I couldn’t care. I regret not staying that little girl I once was, wanting to be like momma and how she was my hero. All that had changed and now I look back and see that none friends were actually my friends in high school, that it wasn’t worth pushing my mom away. It’s too late… IT’S TO LATE! “ Mommy why was I so bitter?” my breath comes out shaky. I sink my knees in to the mud, not caring what it does to my jeans, mommy im sorry, I whisper. Right after I said that it started pouring, yet I didn’t move. I told her all the things I went through, I told her the hardest obstacles, I told her my embarrassing times, and I told her everything under the sun. Once I finished and ran out of tears, the sky cleared up and in that moment I realized she was listening, she was crying with me, she was laughing with me and now she was smiling with me. I got up and I walked away smiling with my mom smiling right back at me.