Be Nice

April 22, 2013
By , Columbia, MO
“Fine Mom! You piss me off! I hate you!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I completely hated that woman, but then again, she does everything for me... my clothes, food, house, allowance, but I treat her like a piece of crap. Just standing here with my sweaty hand on the cold, smoothly round door knob I think I'm a piece of crap.
Man screw her, all she does is nag and complain.
She is your mother, is she not?... Caprio?
Shut up! I’m trying to think; she’s yours too you know. What do we do?
Over who? Mom?
No nitwit; Brooke.
I just say we leave her out of our mind for now,
“Caprio Antonio Felix! Did you just slam the door on me young man!?”
You talk to her!
No you!
“I’m talking to you and when I talk to you, you listen young man!”
“No Mom! We don’t want you right now! Leave us alone!”
“Oh shut up with your we. Ever your father left your dissociative identity disorder has gotten worse”
“Mom, it’s not a disorder, it’s a disability. And don’t talk about dad that way!”
“Your dad is dead,and you act like it’s a disease most of the time. Now give me your phone fo...+”
“No! leave us alone!”
Slam the door!
But shes talking to us!
Just do it so she shuts up like last time!

As I stood there, it seemed as is if half of shook with fear of hurting my mothers’ feelings while the other half ground my teeth with anger for her threatening to take my phone.
No one takes your phone!
But she’s your mother.
I’ve never felt the same as before; before my father passed from the incident. he kept me calm and whole. We just need someone that has the capability to completely fill the gaping black hole dwelling inside of us. That would surely pull us together. It just seems as if Mother is going in the opposite direction. She seems to want to fight and argue, always; Caprio this, Caprio that.
Geez, won’t she ever shut up?
Letting the soft fuzzy rug soothe my aching feet from soccer practice that night, I let the cold doorknob go and turn to my world of happiness. My bed located in the corner rustled with un-hung clothes. The only place I was free to do as I pleased. Grabbing my favorite possession I had, my phone rang with a message.
Is it Brooke?
I don’t know let me check... nope, just Aja.
Dam, won’t she ever just leave us alone?
Using my phone to respond, a brilliant idea occurs to us.
Why not write a poem for brooke! It’ll be lovely.
Yea! then we could also send it to that Rachel girl we keep thinking of!
What?!? Why? Thats not how it works!
But then think of it, we could play the field bro.
But we should be gentlemen!
Nah, screw that man.
Apologize to your mother first.
Fine I’ll do it.

“What now?”

“I’m sorry...”

“Fine whatever.”
Be nicer to Mother dude, she’s always been there for you when others leave.
Right, go into your memories and then tell me.
No. It is not true she wants to ruin us and our fun. Plus you’re still single, HA.
Doesn’t matter. We’re only 16 and should focus more on family. Don’t forget what therapy. Just, lets try to fix our issues first before focusing socially.
What issues?
Mother first. We treat her like we don’t belong.
We treat her like that!
Yes. I’m going to the park with her. I want ice cream. Now shut it.
Fine just for ice cream! I hate you!
I know.
“Hey Mom! Want some ice cream like the past?”
“Oh now you’re nice?”
“Yea, we need to completely reconstruct our relationship.”
Opening the squeaky door, I could see the little smile on her face that she noticed in a few minutes, life can change for the better.

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