Chapter 23. Rose - Blurred memories
Three months later
The last three months have been hell. To avoid charges, I had to spend a month in hospital.
I mean, it wasn’t so bad. Some of the other patients were nice, and art therapy was really relaxing, but Corinne, my roommate, made my life hell.
She had constant nightmares, so I barely slept, and she kept stealing my stuff.
Coffee is a no-go here (no stimulants apparently), so Mom snuck me in some sachets to tide me over.
Corinne found them no matter where I hid them, and I could hardly tell the nurses she was stealing my contraband.
She stole my bra, my cute red top, and my books, and always denied it.
She also called me “Poser” all the time and mocked my tattoo when she saw it one day as I was coming out of the shower.
She had zero boundaries and sometimes called me “whorebag.” She at least got in trouble for that because I’d shared my story in a group setting that was supposed to be confidential and bring no judgment.
I didn’t judge her kleptomania, so she had no right to judge my life.
I wouldn’t be stupid this time. I wouldn’t tell my mom about my sexy Tiger until we’d committed to each other.
I still thought of Bear, but his absence didn’t hurt the way I thought it would.
And I felt calmer, which was probably the truckload of medication I was on.
I’d come off that soon though; my Tiger would want me alert and energetic for when the right time came.
Mom had moved me in with her, apparently it was a “condition” that the court had insisted on.
It was okay, but she was not happy having me there.
She constantly questioned where I was going and what I was doing.
I think she was still in a bad mood about Colin.
She was so angry that he’d left me barely anything, but I didn’t care about that.
The carer’s payment I received for looking after him was enough.
I was sadder about the fact that he wasn’t my dad.
Mom denied this, but refused to let me do the DNA test that Colin had allowed for in his will.
Apparently, he’d left a sample for my “closure.” She said my dad was either “the photocopier man” or “Lou from the bar.” Dr. Sanders made me realize I didn’t care about that anymore.
Whoever my dad was, he obviously didn’t really care, or didn’t even know I existed.
I didn’t need a dad when my Tiger was there to care for me.
He frowned a lot and kept reminding me of “boundaries,” but I know he’s holding the professional line until I’m no longer a patient.
I had a new job at a jewelry store, and I absolutely loved it.
The people were friendly, and I’d started socializing with them, though Mom tracked my location when I was out.
I was saving for laser tattoo removal, and I was putting together a pretty decent fund.
I can’t believe how expensive it is to have mistakes removed from your body.
I know they couldn’t totally remove it; it would leave a fuzzy patch, like a blurred memory.
I could just tattoo over it though, maybe with a Tiger with a stethoscope around his neck.
“Rose, you have your appointment. Go straight there and come straight home,” Mom commanded. I put the final touches on my make-up and spritzed some perfume over my neck.
“Yes, Mom. I know.” Ugh, she was such a jailer. Her and Auntie Jean were on me like flies on shit.
I smiled at my reflection. Time to meet my Tiger!