Chapter 42 Guilt Tripping Me From Above Is Not Cool
Guilt Tripping Me From Above Is Not Cool
My mum is dead. As simple as that. Well, maybe not that simple because I hated her since I was nine, only to find out that she’s been dead for I don’t even know how long.
Skylar.
Dead.
Loved.
Long time.
I wake up on a sofa with these words imprinted in my mind, not sure if I made them up or if someone actually said them.
“Maddie.” I slowly get up, and two figures get closer.
“She lied to us. You lied to me.” I ask weak, eyes on me, and about to break once and for all. I put my thoughts together, and anger bursts through my body and mind.
“She made me promise. I couldn’t-”
“Because I don’t know if you know this, Dad, but I hated her for leaving me, you, Lindsey!
” I raise my voice, broken. “I hated the fact that I looked exactly like her. I wouldn’t look at myself in the mirror for years.
I straightened my hair and refused to put on makeup.
For nothing!” I laugh bitterly, my eyes swelling up.
“And now I find that I was being an ungrateful bitch and that she’s dead!
” I talk like a maniac, and my dad is about to cry.
“Don’t call yourself that, that’s unfair.”
“No, I called every curse word and demeaning name I could ever think of, because why would she ever leave you? Why would she leave her children?” I scoff, still not really believing this is happening. “For how long?”
“Two months after she left.” Dad looks at anything but me, ashamed. “Today, eight years ago.” Dad closes his eyes, and I can’t look at him.
“She’s been dead for eight years.” I think out loud. “She has been dead for eight years.” I repeat, hurt, ashamed of myself for hating on her. “Why?”
“Sh-She was dying.” Dad manages to get out, still not looking into my eyes. “She didn’t have much time, and she didn’t want to hurt you- Us, so she left.”
“This whole time I thought she didn’t love me and I wasn’t enough.” Tears fall down my face, and it feels like this, me crying every damn second of the day, could never stop. Like it’ll never stop hurting. Every time I think everything’s fine, BAM, your mom is dead.
I sit up straight, focusing on the floor, my hands grasping onto the sofa.
“She made me promise.” Dad breathes calmly, and I get up with a swift movement.
“I’m sorry, Dad, I need air.” I blurt, as normal as one could with tears washing their face. Because how can I blame my dad if it was the love of his life’s dying wish?
I fast-pace through the library and reach the door, slamming it as I leave. Soon enough, it opens, and Allison calls after me.
“Mads.”
“Just leave me alone. Please.” I cry.
“Alright, just- Be safe, okay? I’m here whenever you want to talk about it.” She gives me a quick hug, and I appreciate it.
I then get out of here and walk fast to the one place I would be alone with all these feelings. The tree. I’m starting to spend a lot of time in there.
I take the same dirt paths, tears rolling down my cheeks just as before, and I cry even more. This is happening all over again. Can’t I just have a normal summer? A happy one? I don’t want to be the girl who cries all the time. I want to be put together.
Soon enough, I reach the tree, and the first thing I think about is…
All these years, I’ve been incapable of being in a relationship because of these mommy issues, and after all, I could’ve perfectly been in one because I wouldn’t be afraid, because she did not walk out on me on purpose.
And I’m not talking just about Jake. All the boys who ever asked me out or flirted with me…
I thought, My mom knew me like nobody, and she left me just like that.
Chances are, they’re going to leave me faster.
She loved me, and that feels good. But she’s dead, and that devastates me.
I don’t even know what the proper reaction is, so, I sit and stay silent, not a single tear coming now, but a piece of me appeared to be ripped unexpectedly.
I spent so much time hating her that I’m not sure I’m capable of loving her.
I villainized her and created this made-up character and convinced myself for years that that was who she was, and turns out I know nothing.
I blocked out all the good memories, and I burnt all the photos.
Oh my god, if I were my dad, I would’ve crashed out.
I look forward, waiting for nature to give me answers or something. It’s not like she’s going to appear in the sky and give advice, Mufasa-style.
I sniffle and close my eyes, grateful to be alone right now.
I love all of them, but I couldn’t come to any kind of calming state if any of them were here trying to comfort me. Oh my god. How is he telling Lindsey? She was so young and didn’t understand much, but she can understand that her mother is lifeless. Dead.
Lindy… What if he’s telling her right now? What if she gets mad at him and needs support? I have to go back.
I return to the house quickly, still trying to think of ways Lindsey could discover and all the ways she could react.
I reach the gates. I step in and never stop.
I walk into the house straight to the living room, where my sister is watching TV, and my dad is on the couch near hers, shaking his leg and biting his nails.
“Lindy.” I call, and she peeks at me rapidly, but then she realises I’ve been crying and stops the show.
“Mads?” And without thinking, I say it.
“Mom’s dead.” I drop, trying not to tear up. God, that was an awful way of saying it.
Dad’s head snaps from me to her, ready for her reaction.
“I know.” She numbly responds. My dad and I look at each other, astonished, and I start to stutter. “How? When? What?”
“I found out two years ago.” She shrugs. “I found a letter in dad’s desk at home, from mom.” I didn’t see this coming. Neither did my dad.
“Were you okay?” I ask, still taken aback.
“I mean, our mom’s dead, Mads, it can’t get better than that.
But I asked dad for a therapist, and she helped me realize that there was nothing I could do about it and that she loved us.
She’s been trying to get me to tell you guys that I know for a long time, so I guess now you know. ” She eyes us, unsure how to proceed.
“And you had to deal with that alone?” My dad’s heart breaks.
“Yeah, I wasn’t alone. I told Alana. And Aunt Lori.” My dad’s about to burst when she interrupts. “Don’t be mad at her, I made her promise not to tell you.” She glances at me. “Jake doesn’t know either, okay? Alana didn’t tell anyone.”
Jake. Right. I wasn’t even thinking about him.
“Are you okay?” She asks, and I just shrug.
The truth is, I don’t really know if I’m okay or not. The subject will be sensitive at first, but I trust that in time… It’ll hurt less, right? She’s already dead… It’s not like I can bottle up feelings for someone who has been gone for eight years. Right?