Dreadful dinner
664 Words
I quickly got ready, checking the mirror at my reflection. My long black hair was dull, likely from malnutrition. I trimmed the ends when they looked frayed, but otherwise, it hasn’t been cut in years. The one thing that hadn’t dulled was my bright green eyes. I assumed that I got them from my father, since my mom had brown eyes. I was thin, again, likely from malnutrition. I had slightly wider hips and larger boobs. I hoped that I when I left and had more regular meals, that I would fill out a little better. I put on the one nice pair of jeans that I owned and a plain black t-shirt, ditching my regular hoodie for once. My mother was one for appearances. She wanted me to look my best if we were out together. I came out of my room, seeing that my mother chose a crop top, short jean shorts, and wedged sandles. She thought that she looked nice. Her outfit screamed “I need attention”. I internally groaned. “Aw, baby girl, you dressed up. You look so much better without that ugly hoodie.” she gushed. I gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks mom.” I hated how much she worried about what other people thought. As long as everything looks good on the outside, no one has to know what goes on behind closed doors. We headed out the door and drove to the local Vietnamese restaurant. It was my mother’s favorite. I wondered what she did to earn this. I swallowed back bile. No, I definitely did not want to know.
We were seated quickly and the waitress took our orders. F**k boy looked at the menu and huffed. “I don’t understand what you like about this place. Half of this s**t you can’t even read.” I looked down, rolling my eyes. I swear, he was a pathetic excuse for a human being. “You may not be able to read it, but it tastes divine.” she smiled at him. “I know something that I would much rather be feasting on for dinner than this sh*t.” he said seductively. I saw my mom bat her eyelashes at him. Hello, I’m literally sitting right here. I cleared my throat, hoping they’d remember that I was at the table. My mom laughed. “Madeline, you’re practically an adult. Adults banter like this. You need to grow up.” To say I was shocked, would be an understatement. I widened my eyes at her. Does she not realize that I had to grow up on that day when I was eight years old. When I came home to find her overdosing on h****n. How about all of the times that I’ve dragged her back to bed, tucked her in, and worried she may never wake up. She had a lot of nerve telling me to grow up. Play nice, Madeline. It’s almost over I reminded myself. I gritted my teeth, “You’re right mother.” I felt sick saying it, but anything to get through this dinner and the next few weeks. F**k boy chuckled “That’s how we like it Madeline.” He gave me a devious smile that made me sick. Our food was served and I ate pretty quietly. My mom asked about school and if I’ve got any friends. I tried to keep it short, giving her enough, without giving her too much. I would hate to get f**k boy riled up again. Such a man, I thought to myself. “Are you excited to turn eighteen? Such a big milestone in a woman's life!” my mother asked enthusiastically. I just nodded, filling my mouth with food, hoping she’d leave the subject alone. I didn't miss the looks that f**k boy was giving me. I felt a chill up my spine. I was ready for this dinner to be over and to get away from him.
- Writer
