Entangled In You

“Hurry sweetie,” my mother waves her frail arm in my direction, urging me towards the awaiting truck. A cold chill settles in the marrow of my bones, and my gut churns with unease. The cool, winter air bites at my skin as slushy rain falls against the gravel driveway. I wasn’t dressed for the weather because I didn’t plan on being outside, but I knew better than to argue with my mother when she was in these kinds of moods. Some days, she was like the woman I remembered as a young girl. Her warm, honey brown eyes held kindness, love, and patience, and her mind was lucid. Other days, she was cold, distant, or angry. Sometimes all three. Her moods were unpredictable, and I never knew which one I’d find waiting for me when I returned from school. Today, it seemed that her delusions had gotten the best of her. She was panicked, almost frantic. When I came out of my room after doing homework, she was pacing the kitchen mumbling something incoherent under her breath. I tiptoed past her, but her face shot up when the floor creaked beneath my foot, “We need to go,” she’d said, her eyes flickering around the room, “We need to go before your father gets back,” she paused a beat, her eyes pinching together before widening as if she’d answered a question in her head, “To the store! I forgot that we don’t have any milk for dinner and your father will be angry.” I’d had cereal for breakfast this morning before school, opening the brand-new gallon that my father purchased at the store yesterday, but I kept my mouth shut about that. “The forecast calls for the sleet to turn into snow soon, momma. Can’t it wait? I’ll find something else we can cook.” I took a timid step towards the kitchen, but she stepped into the tiny walkway, blocking the entrance. “Delilah,” my mother called me by my full name, knowing how much it agitated me, “Let’s go. Now.” Wrapping my arms over my body, I rushed to the passenger side, slamming the door behind me, and settling against the ripped leather seat. My body shivered, and I reached to turn the heat up, but my mother smacked my hand away as she climbed inside the car. She reversed out of the driveway quickly, sending gravel flying behind us. Once on the main road, the truck zipped along the slick roads, my mother not bothering to slow down despite the increasingly poor conditions. I stared out the window, seeing my surroundings disappear in a blur as she approached the interstate. “Why are you shivering? I have the heat running so high, it’s like a sauna in here,” my mother mutters, before returning to mumbling more incoherent words under her breath. It was absolutely not a sauna in here, unless you counted the steam wafting off of my skin as the sleet melts from my body heat. My mother’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, her eyes darting around like there was danger nearby. The truck slid on black ice, my chest seizing up as I grabbed the cracked leather armrest, gripping it in a death grip. My mother righted the car, not showing an ounce of concern as my heart damn near split open my chest. “Why are you so jumpy?” she snapped, taking her eyes off the road. “Why aren’t you?” I spat through gritted teeth, still feeling my heart thudding as the store came into view, but my mother showed no signs of slowing down. “You’re always so jumpy around me,” she whispered under her breath, “Always avoiding me. You walk around the house like you ride some f*****g high horse,” she snarled. The truck sped past the store, and I watched it disappear in the rearview mirror, feeling the dread that was in my stomach grow and spread like poison in my veins. “Momma,” I started but she cut me off, pressing on the gas, the trucks turbocharger whining as it picked up speed, “Don’t momma me. You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” her face turned towards mine, and I saw it. The dazed look in her eyes when she didn’t take her medication. “You’re scaring me,” I whispered, trying to reach her. The corners of her lips curled, but not with a smile… Instead, a snarl overtook her face as she slammed her palms against the wheel repeatedly, “Always so f*****g prissy. Little Delilah Kaldor grew up to be a prissy little b***h. You think you’re better than me,” she growled. “No,” I gasped, panicked at her tone. I didn’t think I was better than anyone. Maybe more put together than my mother, but I’d never voiced that. “LIAR,” she stepped down on the gas until the truck was flying through the streets. Thankfully, the weather had kept many of the cars off the road, and right now, the slippery roads were the only thing we had to avoid. “You have no future, Lilah. Your father thinks you have talent. So much talent. Talent. Talent. Talent,” she shakes her head, slapping the steering column, “It’s all he can talk about. How he can’t wait until you go off to college and become the first of the family to make something of themselves.” Her laughter booms around the car, and it’s not joyous. No.. the sound is terrifying, and a shiver rolls down my spine. My body breaks into goosebumps as my mother speeds the truck towards the bridge. My eyes catch the churning, black water below. The water raging from the recent rainfall. Snow blurs the windshield, but my mother doesn’t flip her wipers on. “You’ll never be more than me, Delilah,” she smirks, “You’ll never amount to anything because this is where your story ends.” Everything stands still as my mother jerks her arms to the left. The car slides sideways, hurdling towards the concrete barrier that keeps us on the bridge and not tumbling into the icy Chesapeake Bay below. I blink, trying to reach for the wheel, but my mother intercepts, gripping my arm and puncturing the skin with her nails. She doesn’t look afraid, and only resignation and pride shines in her brown eyes. The truck smashes against the concrete barrier, and I silently pray that it’s strong enough to keep us on the bridge, but the ice on the road pushes us faster, and in the blink of an eye, the truck is careening over the edge of the bridge. The scream dies in my throat as we tip forward, heading straight down into the frigid waters. My body jolts wildly as the vehicle smashes into the surface, sending my face flying into the windshield, and shattering the window. Water quickly filled the cab, but my vision was blurry, and my head ached. I felt myself slowly fading in and out of consciousness before I gasped, the icy liquid of the Bay filling my lungs. My eyes shot opened as I gasped for air. Pain seized my chest as I coughed and sputtered, clawing at my throat. I panicked for a brief moment, my body heaving with heavy breaths before my black satin sheets materialized in my peripherals. Then the posts at the end of my bed, and finally, the deep emerald green I’d painted my walls. My arm flung to my left, feeling the bed, but it was empty. Lately it was always empty. The sound of a deep laugh booming down the hall and then his voice, “Got em’ boys.” Issac must still be playing games on his computer. My head ached, and I reached for the water bottle sitting on my nightstand, gulping down the still cool liquid, and lazily reaching into my drawer for the bottle of medication that helped me through the worst nights. That nightmare has plagued me many nights over the last five years, but it was always worse this time of year. My phone chimed on my nightstand. The low light still assaulted my eyes, but I grabbed it anyway, needing the distraction. The familiar orange bubble of my texting app shined in front of a photo of Issac and me. “Happy anniversary,” it read, with a confetti emoji. Another text popped through, “May the Bridge Gods be on your side again this year,” followed by the prayer hands emoji. It was 12:01 am on the anniversary of the day that my mother tried to kill me five years ago. Laughter bubbled from my chest, replacing the ache that the dream had caused me. CerealKiller1224 was the only one who could say something like that to me and not cause panic to seize my chest.