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Last Time

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I awoke with a start, sweating and breathing hard. I couldn't let myself remember what was going on in my dream. I already knew what it was. In the darkness I could still see my mother standing over me... I didn't move; I was still stuck in my dream world. I took a deep, shaky breath and looked around. My room was a mess. I didn't remember going to sleep with my dresser on its side like that, the drawers empty and my clothes sprawled out on the floor. I closed my eyes, trying to think of what had happened before I fell asleep. It was all blank. I had already blocked it out. I couldn't decide if this was a good thing or not.





"We're leaving." Mother muttered then left the room silently. I couldn't bring myself to say anything back to her. My legs were shaking as I stood up and walked out into the hallway, to her room. I stared at my socked feet, thinking of what to say. My mind was still groggy from lack of sleep.




"Again?" Was the only thing that came to mind. I finally looked up at her. She was already dressed, her brown hair in a ponytail. She was all ready to just drop everything we had here and leave. I should've known it was coming.



"Yes." She replied, keeping her voice quiet and level as if her boyfriend would hear her. I envied him for he was still in bed, sunken deep into the full comforter. Not knowing he would wake up to an empty home. He was always a heavy sleeper.



"Why?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"We don't need to be here, it is putting too much weight on my shoulders and I can't take it anymore." I questioned to why I couldn't stay and she just simply replied with the classic,

"I can't live without you; this will be the last time, I promise." That was the worst part. It would never be the last time. There would always be another reason just to run away as soon as things started to go our way.



I walked back into my room switching on the light to discover the usual disaster she had always set up before we disappeared. We could never just leave quietly without a pile of drama, oh no, we had to make a huge scene. Broken furniture, everything on its side or upside-down, clothes and papers spread everywhere on the floor.



I had always considered doing this before but it seemed too exaggerated, too final. This time I didn't care. This time, I knew what I wanted to do. It was the only thing that would serve her right. I got out my knife from under my mattress and hid it under my clothes as I went into the bathroom I shared with my mother and her boyfriend. It was a disaster area, everything thrown on the ground, some perfume bottles were broken on the floor. The odor was awful from so many floral scents mixed into the empty air.

I turned on the water in the tub and closed up the drain. I had always dreamed of this night, of seeing her reaction from afar. My hands were tingling with an evil kind of happiness as I dug through mother's make-up drawer. I soon found the exact tube of lipstick I wanted. It was the brightest shade of pure red she owned, her favorite one. Perfect for what I was planning.

I took off my clothes and slid into the warm water, knife in hand. I couldn't help but smirk as I put the blade to my first wrist, my right one. I pressed down, the sharpness slicing into my skin. It felt amazingly good. A release of all the emotions I had bottled up about my mother; all my hate oozing out of the large wound. It was bleeding awfully and I put it under the water. All the liquid around me turned a cloudy red. The effect I had intended was working exactly as planned. I cut my other wrist with a faster, swift motion. It was easier then I had imagined. No pain, no regrets... I was in a place of bliss. I leaned my head back on the rim of the tub, relaxed. More then I ever had been. I never would have to worry about mother making another erratic decision right off the bat. As I drifted away I read the message I wrote on the wall.

This IS the last time I'm leaving





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