Clinging On To The Hope That They’ll Cling On

(I’m going to university the next day and am finishing my packing up. My university is on the other side of the country. My mum isn’t taking my decision too well, and has been trying everything in her power to stop me.)

Mum: “Can’t you just stay here? I’m begging you, just stay!”

Me: “I’ve already told you. I really like the course, and this gives me more independence. You’ve spent the past three years saying you can’t wait to be rid of me. So here you go.”

Mum: “Yes, but I meant down the street, not on the other side of the world.”

Me: “Mum, calm down. It’s three hours away.”

Mum: “I just can’t understand why you want to leave us. We’ve never abused you or anything!”

(She continues like this all day, getting more and more desperate. Come early morning, and I hear a lot of noise coming from the garage. My dad is already walking down the stairs and we meet. He thinks it’s my mum so we check. We find her slashing my car tyres by torchlight. When my dad confronts her, all she can get out is “NOW HE CAN’T GO!”  My dad arranges for new tyres later in the morning, and my move is still set for after noon. I come down to say my goodbyes, and my parents are in the kitchen. My mum is still sobbing while my dad argues angrily.)

Dad: “You slashed his tyres, for Christ’s sake! I’m surprised he isn’t running for the hills!”

(When I finally said goodbye, she refused to leave the kitchen and I ended up saying goodbye to my brother, dad, and grandparents. My mum still refuses to speak to me, and during the times I have visited, she refuses to look me in the eye, and leaves the room altogether. I haven’t had an actual conversation with her in months.)