My mother. I will tell you about my mother, you stupid smug fuck. She locked me in a room and called it home. She stitched me in a dress and said it was pretty. She chained me to a name, a name of shame, a name to blame, a blame of shame.
“She was tired last night. I told her about my day at the office but she wasnt listening. I’d had a bad day. Jaden was being rude. She kept cutting me off at the meeting.”
The stupid slut is ignoring me. Thinks she is better than I am. She is better than I am. Confident slut talking over me. I have things to say too. Important things. Meaningful things. I have nothing to say. I am nothing.
“Mother was tired. The heating had gone out of her building and she had spent all morning trying to reach the manager. It had put her in a bad mood. She was trying to be nice to me on the phone but I could tell.”
She had spat and hissed and screamed. The phone crackled and burnt my hand, my ear but I could not hang up. She called me a cunt, a good for nothing cunt. She said I should never have been born, that she regretted every second of my life. I should never have been born.
“I tried to be nice but I just kept reacting. It was really hard to not be mean.”
I said that was a good meeting. It was late in the carpark. No one was around. Then I cut her throat. White as cream. Soft as butter.