Spoilt Brat

30th of December 2017

She slurs her words slightly "I just find it interesting how when your mum calls you run upstairs like a little dog to answer the phone but when we do it goes straight to voicemail." Her chubby left hand, clasping the wine bottle I watch as she drags it back and forth over the countertop. "Truth is you don't care about us or your Dad can't even be bothered to answer the voicemails we leave you." Sharply she breaths in, and I begin to feel my eyes tearing up. But i won't. Or at least I think I won't. But I do. They fall out of my eyes silently like cannonballs they elegantly flop to the floor. "There's is no point crying you're just a spoilt brat." I want to say it. But I don't, I don't scream back at her for abandoning me at 5 years old to a foreign country with a different time zone millions of miles away. I don't tell her that seeing my Dad and his family once every two years for two weeks doesn't equate to me being a spoilt brat nor make me selfish. She goes on like this for a while, in the same manor while I just sit and take it, swallowing every one of her poisonous words like the selfish brat I am.

Then with her short stubby legs she walks away "Harrison come to bed"
"No" my half brother just sits there, a look of shock in his eyes "I  said come to bed." But he doesn't and I sit the shaking and crying like an new born while my father looks on. He sits there, with nothing on his lips and no anger in his eyes. It takes an 11 year old to ask him to ask me if I'm okay "Dad, say something to your daughter" he shrugs "She's just jealous Bells." Jealous of what? A 16 year old kid living in a shitty neighbourhood who comes to visit for two weeks and gets a glimpse into their first class lifestyle whilst hoping not to ask for too much. I never ask for anything as I'm terrified of them turning around and accusing me of being that God awful word, spoilt. I can never be my mum's worked hard to give me as much as she could- which is nothing by their standards. He just sit there and lets Harrison do all the talking "She shouldn't talks to you like that" he hugs me, "I'm going to go talk to her make her say sorry"
"No" my lips part "No, don't I'm gonna go to bed and we'll sort this out in the morning."
I tip toe up the stairs to the first floor avoiding her door I make it to mine. Run in getting into bed I hear the shouting begin. "Apologise to my sister, if you don't you not my mum!" my ears prick up as a hear the bottle drop softly onto the carpeted floor. More muffled yelling. My tears have dried up my hand comes to my face wiping away the memories from tonight. Then, I realise something I've never realised before. I see my step-mother for who she really is, not a glamourous go getter with a fabulous lifestyle and top job in a foreign city a long way away from my home. I see her for a scared woman jealous of her husbands biological daughter who is forgotten about except for 2 weeks ever 2 years. An wine guzzling woman intent on being perceived as vivasious and not a raging alki. "Everyone's fucking mental" I whisper comfortingly to myself I roll over and shut my eyes as my door flies open. "I'm not gonna knock because you wouldn't let me in" she dumps herself and her glass down on the end of my bed. "You know I love you" I sob. Why am I so week around her? Why do I fall apart so quickly?

She never once says sorry- but she tells me all that is wrong with me. How I'm not go getting enough and I conform too much to what people want from me, how I let my mother control me and I'm not my own person. All complete and other shit. It gets to me though, in that moment I sob a little louder my tears feel like troops marching on top of my mascara stained face. The door flies open again "You're a big girl put you pyjama's on and go to bed stop attention seeking" she shouts
"Please can we talk about this in the morning" I beg
"NO!" she goes on but soon that drunken haze spreads from her eyes to her brain, so she forgets why she's here and what she's doing. Slamming the door I'm left in the pitch darkness. Alone and shaking. the troops subside and my phone buzzes.
We love you so much xxx. But that's a lie and she knows it.