My door was flung open.
“Aspasia!” my mother screamed.
I slowly opened my eyes, and saw my mother standing there in the doorway.
“Get your lazy butt off that bed, and get ready for school!” she yelled.
So I sat up a little, rubbed my innocent eyes, and looked at my mother in confusion.
“Get up now, Aspasia!” she hollered once more, but in a stronger and more serious tone.
“I am, Mother,” I answered strongly. “I’m getting up.”
She headed towards my bed. I couldn’t help but feel scared, especially not knowing what she might do.
“Was that an insult?” asked my mother, pointing her finger within inches of my face.
I shook my head left and right. “No, no, Mother,” I answered, harmlessly.
She grabbed my blankets and bed sheets angrily, and threw at me, frightening me even more than I had been.
“You never insult me, you liar! I’ll wash your dirty little mouth out with soap!”
“But—”
“Shut up, and get ready for school,” she ordered, as she violently yanked on my hair.
I was still in my nightshirt, but she forced me to get up and out of bed. I was confused and tired, and too scared to understand what was happening, especially with her yanking on my hair.
“Now hurry and brush your teeth, and get dressed, you little brat,” she demanded, finally releasing my hair. She started out of the room, but then looked back. “And fix your bed,” she added, “you slob!”
My eyes were filling with tears as she left the bedroom. But, since she had left the door open, I made sure she was out of sight before softly sobbing, and calling her “a jerk.”
I made my bed, got dressed, and brushed my teeth as I been told to do. Since I was already late, my mother made me go without breakfast, and I headed off to school on an empty stomach.
Later that day, I sat at my desk in the classroom, playing with a pencil and not paying any attention to the teacher. I was sad and depressed. My best friend, Nina, sat next to me and looked at me. She must have noticed my sadness.
“Are you alright, Aspasia?” she whispered over to me.
I was too sad to even look at her, or to say anything. I’m not even sure if I heard her. I just didn’t want to involve her with what happened to me that morning.
“Nina and Aspasia, pay attention!” shouted the teacher.
Nina quickly sat up straight, and focused her eyes on him. I noticed what a loud mouth my teacher, Mr. Harpman, had. I hated school, and I hated how we children had to blindly obey our teacher. So I stared at him with an angry expression on my face, and rolled my eyes. Mr. Harpman saw me roll my eyes, and noticed the angry look I on my face. I didn’t care. He huffed and puffed, but soon continued on with his teaching.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nina glancing over at me, staring for a few seconds, and I could tell from her expression that she was worried.
After school, Nina decided to walk with me to my house. I guess she was so worried about me that she wanted to hang out with me all day. I was very quiet as we walked, looking down at my feet, and saying nothing. I was doing a bad job of hiding my emotions, but I was afraid I would start to cry if I opened my mouth.
“Why are you so depressed?” Nina finally asked. “You haven’t said anything all day.”
I didn’t answer, and just looked straight ahead. I felt Nina staring, as she waited for an answer.
“Is it work, Aspasia? Trouble at home? Or is someone just being mean to you?”
I thought to myself, “Gosh, what is she? My agent?” That was how frustrated and annoyed I was becoming. So, I decided to end the conversation.
“Please… just stop asking,” I said. “It happens every day.” And, I looked away.
“Okay… whatever,” said Nina, sounding disappointed.
Eventually, we reached my house. As soon as we stepped inside, my mother confronted us. I wanted to just take Nina, and walk away to my room, but of course I didn’t. It wasn’t as if I would have been able to anyway.
“What are you doing Aspasia!?” hollered my mother, all the while blocking the staircase. “You can’t bring someone into MY house.”
I sighed and stared at her. “But Mother, she’s my study partner. My teacher—”
“I don’t care what your teacher says!” she yelled, interrupting me. “You ask me before waltzing people into my house!”
“That’s stupid, Mother” I murmured, “you know who she is.” There was a whine in my voice.
“Don’t you talk back to me, stupid girl!” she yelled, pointing her finger at my face.
I ignored my mother, and looked at Nina, who looked a little frightened. “Nina,” I said, “go ahead and go to my room, okay? I’ll be up in a sec.”
Nina nodded. My mother didn’t move out of the way, but just stood there staring into Nina’s eyes, as Nina barely squeezed past her, and slowly and cautiously walked up the staircase. I looked at my mother, and started to head upstairs, but she grabbed hold of my arm.
“You watch yourself young lady,” my mother threatened.
I gave her a dirty look, and yanked my arm away from her grip, continuing on my way upstairs. I didn’t even look back to see my mom’s expression. But I got the feeling I might regret that action later.
I reached my bedroom and walked in, slamming the door closed. Nina was standing near the desk with her arms crossed, looking worried. I walked to the bed and sat down, resting my chin in my hand. I was totally frustrated with all of the drama.
“I don’t know how you put up with her,” Nina said, as she walked over to me, and sat down beside me.
“I don’t know how, either…”
Nina began rubbing my back softly. It was the first time she had ever done that to me, and it was comforting. I looked at her and smiled, feeling a bit better. We heard my mother stomping her way up the stairs, and Nina removed her hand from my back. But, the comforting moment had been nice while it lasted. I sighed as I waited for my mother to barge into my room. It was obvious that that was where she was headed.
A moment later, she charged through the door.
“Nina!” she shouted. “Your mother called, and she wants you home.” Her voice was filled with anger, and there was a bit of over-acting.
“Are you sure?” Nina asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Yes, I’m sure!”
Nina blinked, and stood up. She had a confused look on her face. She looked at me, and said, “Well, bye Aspasia. See you at school tomorrow,” and quickly walked out of the room.
“Gosh Mother,” I said, “you didn’t have to yell at her. She’s not deaf.”
As soon as I said that, my mother walked over to me. I took one look at her, and backed away. She slapped me across the face. I had deserved it, but I didn’t regret saying what I had said.
“How dare you yell at your mother!” she screamed.
“But Mom, I didn’t yell!” I was whimpering, and holding the side of my face that had been hit.
In response to my shouting again, she slapped me on the other side of my face, yelling, “Don’t you talk back to me!”
It was the first time she had ever hit me twice in a row. She was obviously angery at something, and of course she had taken her anger out on me. She turned around and started to walk away, and my eyes teared up. What I said next was something I wish I never said – even though I meant it.
“I HATE YOU!” I cried out with hatred.
My mom stopped cold in the doorway, and slowly turned around and gave me an angry look like I had never seen before. She stomped towards me, and my heart beat faster in fear.
“No… Mother, no! I didn’t mean it!” I cried in panic, looking around, wanting to run somewhere.
“HOW DARE YOU!” my mother yelled at the top of her lungs.
She grabbed my hair with one hand, pulling it hard to the side, and with her other she pushed me back down on the bed, roughly slamming the side of my face into its surface. Then, she released my hair and grabbed my wrist, twisting it behind my back.
“Ouch!” I cried, “You’re hurting me!”
“You better apologize right now little lady,” she said.
I didn’t want to apologize, because I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I didn’t have a choice.
“Okay! I’m sorry!” I said.
I felt her loosen her grip just a bit, but then she tightened it again, and hollered, “Say it louder. I can’t hear you!”
“I said I’m sorry!!!” I cried out, even louder.
At last, mother turned me free, and said, “you’re going to reform school, you little punk.”
And then she walked away, apparently satisfied. I was still quite shaken, and I sat on the edge of the bed, crying softly into my hands. I couldn’t bear to live this life any more. I could only think of death; I just wanted to die.
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