"All my life I've worked so hard trying not to be like my mother, Zelda. I forgot who I really am as a person. " - Zelda St.John - McCall
Running at top speed, sweat dripping and she is behind me with a needle, crack pipe and a bottle of alcohol. She is trying to catch me and just by a inch she misses. I hear her yell out,
"Taste your destiny. You can run as fast as you can but you'll be like me. An addict, a failure nobody likes you and a whore. So come on let me shoot this honey in between your toes. Suck on this pipe."
I scream at the top of my throat, my hands picks up rocks, sticks, glass bottles and nothing stops her. She grabs me by my hair and I beg her,
"Don't make me like you, please."
Every night for majority of my life that recurring dream has never taken a vacation. When I opened the door and she is standing there thinner than a skeleton, skin sagging off her and her cerulean eyes staring at me.
"Zee, thank you for letting me stay."
I didn't respond to her and for the life of me the person I feared and loved at the same time I let in my home. She is my mother, she is homeless like I once was just two months ago. Was I letting my nightmare catch up to me?
She enter with a duffle bag and all I can manage to say,
" No drugs around my children. If I think you are getting high I will throw you to the streets."
She walked pass me and she turned back towards me.
" If I wanted to get high you wouldn't have to throw me out I'd leave. Check yourself before you wreck yourself I'm your damn mother. Nothing has not changed make me some coffee."
I wish I could just keep running and say No. I have no family besides her. She needs me more than I need her. Maybe the dreams will go away.
©2014 Tamyara Brown- Tamluvstowrite
Author Tamyara Brown
My love for writing is unconditional. It is my sanity in this crazy world.