Chapter 11
817 Words
Emily's POV_
I trudged up to my room, feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Mom's words kept echoing in my mind - "You're not doing your homework, you're not focusing on your schoolwork." I felt like I was failing her, like I was the reason she was so upset all the time.
I flopped down on my bed and buried my face in my pillow. Why couldn't I just do things right? Why couldn't I make Mom happy? I felt like I was walking on eggshells around her, never knowing what would set her off.
I thought about all the times Mom had yelled at me, all the times she'd made me feel like I was stupid or incompetent. I felt like I was to blame for everything, like I was the reason she was so unhappy.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I thought about how much I wanted Mom to be happy. I wanted her to smile and laugh again, to be the mom I knew she could be. But every time I tried to do something right, something else would go wrong, and she'd get angry all over again.
I felt like I was all alone in this, like no one understood what I was going through. Dad was trying to help, but he didn't get it. He didn't know what it was like to be me, to live with Mom's mood swings and anger.
I sighed and rolled over, staring blankly at the ceiling. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was stuck in this situation, like there was no way out.
As I lay there, I felt a lump form in my throat. I was trying to be strong, to hold it all together. But it was hard. Sometimes it felt like everything was just too much.
I was lying on my bed, feeling sorry for myself, when I heard a knock at the door. It was my brothers, Jack and Mark.
"Hey, Em," Jack said, climbing onto the bed beside me. "What's going on? You look like you're about to cry."
I sniffled, feeling a lump form in my throat. "It's just Mom," I said, my voice shaking. "She's always yelling at me, and I feel like I'm not good enough."
Mark sat down on the other side of me, putting a comforting arm around my shoulders. "It's not your fault, Em," he said. "Mom's just stressed out, that's all."
But I knew it was more than that. I'd seen the way Mom looked at me, the disappointment in her eyes. I felt like I was a constant letdown to her.
Jack leaned in, his eyes serious. "Em, we're here for you, okay? We're a team. We'll get through this together."
Mark nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and Mom loves us, even if she doesn't always show it. She's just going through a tough time."
Their words of encouragement made me feel a little better. Maybe things wouldn't always be this way. Maybe Mom would get better, and we'd be a happy family again.
As we sat there in silence, Jack's expression turned somber, and he looked away, his eyes clouding over. Mark and I exchanged a concerned glance, sensing that something was bothering him.
"Hey, Jack, what's wrong?" Mark asked, noticing the change in his demeanor.
Jack hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I don't know, it's just...do you guys remember that time Mom got really mad at me and made me stay outside as punishment?"
I nodded, recalling the incident. Jack had been in trouble for playing with his toys in the living room, and Mom had been particularly strict that day.
"I was so scared," Jack said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was getting dark, and I didn't know what was going to happen to me. I thought Mom was going to leave me out there forever."
Mark and I looked at each other, feeling a pang of sympathy for our brother. We'd all been punished by Mom before, but that particular incident had been especially traumatic for Jack.
"I remember being really mad at Mom that day," Mark said, "but I also remember Dad coming out to get me and bringing me hot chocolate to calm me down."
Jack's expression softened slightly at the memory. "Yeah, Dad was always there to make things better."
As we sat there in silence, I realized that we all had our own experiences with Mom's anger and frustration. But we also had each other, and we had Dad, who always seemed to know how to make things better.
"Thanks, guys," I said, feeling a sense of gratitude towards my brothers. "Just talking about this is helping me feel a little better."
Mark and Jack smiled, and we shared a moment of solidarity, knowing that we were in this together.
- Writer
