Too Late For Sorry

What do you mean I don’t look pretty? Is this not pretty to you? Too much leg? I never liked the frills. So I tore them off. Do I look like a slut?

That was a joke.

God, it stinks in here. Like mold. You’d think laying on hay would be more comfortable. But it’s not. Is it? It’s itchy. The stalks dig into you. I could say, you get used to it. But you don’t. You never do. It’s always itchy.

Stay. Stay! Don’t you move.

I know, I know. It’s hard to stay still when the adrenaline starts pumping. It burns like fire ants nibbling in your muscles. All you want to do is move. And when you’re forced to lie on your back...

I’m upset you don’t like what I did with my dress. I wore it to prom just for you. You said I would look pretty. Said he would think I looked pretty. Of course he would. You know, I never liked him. I pretended to but he was just off. I couldn’t explain it. Dick.

“Elizabeth, honey, meet mom’s new boyfriend.”

Dick.

He was all smiles and oily handshakes. “Your mom has told me so much about you.” I bet you did. I bet you told him all about me. Is that why he had the stuffed turtle behind his back? Yeah, I liked stuffed animals. When I was 5. Mom. Did he really think I was that young? Or was it just wishful thinking?

And moving us out here to the country? I know that wasn’t your idea. Inner city girl and then she shacks up with some guy and now she wants to be a farmer? Gimme a break. What? You think clean air would help you get clean?

All those seeds are still sitting in the window sill. You never got around to planting them, huh? Even if you had, we both know you wouldn’t have been able to make them grow. You ruin everything you touch. Like dad. Like me.

Dad told me why he left. He said he couldn’t stand being around you. He said he couldn’t continue to watch you poison yourself to death and that one day, he would come home and find you having choked on your own vomit.

But then Dick came along and suddenly you were a changed woman. “I flushed my needles, Elizabeth.” And then you were all sundresses and ribbons.

You remember the day we loaded up the car? It was a Saturday. Kimi’s mom had just dropped me off from softball practice and you were in the driveway trying to attach the big suitcase to the roof of the station wagon. It was too heavy and you dropped it. It burst open and all your clothes spilled all over the grass. Dick came out and started yelling. I don’t remember what he was saying. Nothing important. But I do remember looking up and seeing Kimi’s mom. She looked so - I don’t know - worried? Confused? Maybe a bit of both. You waved and she gave this kinda half-smile. At the time, I didn’t understand what the big deal was. And when I finally realized what the big deal was with Dick, I felt so stupid. Like I had been walking around blindfolded.

The signs were there. Of course they were there. Tried to make me sit in his lap. Walking around with his robe untied. Effin. A-hole. He made me so nauseous just to look at him, I couldn’t eat. Lost eight pounds.

And you knew. And even though you knew, you still left me alone with him. Thought it was a bright idea. You said that we needed to bond, that I needed bonding time with Dick! And where better to bond with your teenage daughter than out here in this stupid barn. What do we even have it for? We’ve never had livestock. Just to get away from prying eyes?

Sit! Sit down, I swear to God!

You knew! Yes, you knew. What he did to me. While you sat there on the couch, watching sitcoms like everything’s fine. Oh, just a happy normal family. And he took me out here. And the things he did. The things he did to me. And you knew. Those playdates? Bonding exercises. Really, mom?

[...]

Shut up. Don’t lie to me. I saw you. I saw you on the couch. Crying. It was prom and I had just come in from the barn. My dress was covered in mud and you were watching tv and you were crying. So don’t tell me you didn’t know.

You know what the worst part is? I can’t even hate you. I want to hate you so bad but I can’t. I just pity you. You invited him into our house. He got what he had coming.

And so will you.

[...]

No, you didn’t love him. You brought him into our lives because you were sad and lonely and getting old and you wanted someone and took what you could get. And for that, I paid the price. Me. Your only child!

So don’t tell me to put down the knife!