The Mask: Part 2

I slammed my room’s door shut and lay down on my bed. Every comment etched to my brain like a tattoo. Every single moment stung like bees. Mom was screaming my name from outside my room, telling me to come down stairs. But I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my pair of head phones and connected my phone to them. My meditating and relaxing music made me calm down. The stinging started to stop and the tattoo artist quit his job. I got down from my bed and opened my door.

“Dear, what’s been up. I heard you screaming into your pillow,” said my mom.

My thoughts started to scatter. Am I annoying? Did I scream to loud? I shook my head and opened my mouth but I couldn’t say anything. I used my hands to gesture what I was thinking but that did nothing. My mom looked at me weirdly. She knew something was up.

“It’s ok if your not ready to talk. I can microwave you some left over pizza?”

I nodded my head since talking wasn’t working. She walked toward the kitchen and I un-paused my music. I grabbed a book from my backpack and started to read. My mom came to the dining room and sat next to me.

“Are you still sad, about, well,….. your dad?”

I paused and looked at her. I gave her the silent treatment. My dad was a veteran who has served for the military. He was a marine and his boat was sunken at sea. No one knows if anyone on the shipped survived. Before dad left, I always looked up to him as a hero, and my savior. But ever since he left, I was quiet. My friends say I’m boring, they say I’m too quiet and nerdy. My mom suggested therapy but I declined. I didn’t want to talk to a stranger.

“Dad’s still out there. I promise.”

I just kept staring at her. I tried to pretend she didn’t bring dad up. But I didn’t. – Clarissa Schroeder