I hate my mother

I hate my mother. It's a real hate. Not some stupid teenager thing. Every time I look at her I feel this anger rise up inside of me. Whenever she speaks I want to rip her throat out.

She told me that I was useless and that I don't do anything and that she does everything and that she's tired of taking care of failures (my brother and me). It started with her asking me if I needed any money for today's game. When I said yes she asked in a tone full of unadulterated anger, "So, where is it all?"

"What do you mean?" I was truly wondering what she was getting at.

"I gave you $40 last week and its all gone. Where is it?" She was getting all 'I'm better than you and my shit don't stink' on me.

"You gave me $20 on last Monday. Since then I've had to buy lunches and dinners after my games..."

"Stop buying people food!"

"I haven't been..."

"So where did $50 dollars go?"

Yes its true the second amount is different (not to mention larger) than the first.

"$50?! What $50 are you talking about?"

"The total of all the money I gave you last week..."

"You didn't give me fifty! You gave me twenty, on Monday..."

With that she stomped off into her room. By now I was crying with frustration. Dad went in after her to talk to her and in her explanation to him the amount of money went up to $80. I was beyond pissed off now.

"Where are you getting $80 from?!" I screamed at her.

She went to count her fingers, but instead chose to utilize the calendar.

"Let's see: I gave you twenty on Monday, ten on Tuesday, for your game, Wednesday it was cancelled, and Thursday I gave you ten more."

First off the schedule was all wrong. I had three games last week and none of them were cancelled. One on Monday, for which she did indeed give me twenty. Then I had one on Wednesday. She didn't give me money because I said that I still had enough from Monday. I slept over my grandmother's house that night because of the long weekend. I had a game the next day (Thursday) for which I received no money because I knew that we weren't going to go out after a home game. Meanwhile, this twenty not only bought me two dinners at McDonald's it bought a vague resemblance of lunch for most of the week.

"No, you only gave me twenty last week and its gone. I fed myself with it," I immediately became conscious of my weight. Tears were falling down my cheeks like water falls. Not to mention that I was beyond exhausted. I had gone to bed somewhere around 11:30 pm and I was up again at 6:00 am.

"LIAR!!!!!!!" she screamed in her throat-grating banshee call.

I was more than ready to kill her.

I did what I had to do for my morning (running quite late after listening to her rants). The bus had gone by once and I remembered my golf stuff (after Mom repeatedly told my that she wasn't doing it for me anymore). I brought my shirt out with me while the clubs were out in the back of Dad's car. She stood out on the back stoop screaming that I couldn't do anything on my own. I popped the trunk open and my father was trying to help, but I wanted to do it alone. When the bus was back at our stop I chucked it at my bag in his trunk and walked away. Before getting on the buss I screamed "I can do things on my own" at her. She spat and said "Yeah right, I'd like to see that someday."

I got on the bus crying and here I am putting it down so it won't hurt so much inside.

Homeroom is almost over. I should stop now...