What Went Wrong

A Story by Desiree

A short account of a long journey

What Went Wrong?

A short account of a long journey

By: Desiree Perez

Sometimes I wonder if I am normal. I think that in one sense there is no such thing as normal but, then on the other I feel like their is. Normal to me is what I would see on T.V. as a kid. You know the one where the mom is cooking dinner for the family and dad is coming in the door from work and the kids are playing with the dog in the beautiful back yard. I wanted that childhood. Looking back on memories now that I am older, I feel like nothing has ever been normal for me. Growing up with an alcoholic mother and a dad that would get with anything that walked was fun for a while.

When I was 7 years old we had Dr. Suess day at school and our parents we’re supposed to help us with costumes for the day. That morning when I got to school I remember seeing a friend in a Cat in the Hat outfit and another dressed like Thing 1. I felt I had a brilliant idea. Why not take some paper write Thing 1 and glue it to the front of my shirt and then write Thing 2 and glue it to the back of my shirt? I proceeded to do so while everyone else in the class was playing and talking with one another. I was so proud of myself when I was finished. I showed my friends and they just laughed at me and said it was not a real costume. By that time we had to get in line to wash our hands and get ready for snack. As I waited in line for soap from my teacher I picked some of the dried glue off from around the paper on my shirt. When it was my turn for some hand soap my teacher looked at my face, shirt, and pants. She gave me hand soap and asked me to come to her desk after snack.

I had finished my snack and was headed to the trash to throw away my napkin. After disposing of the rest of my trash, I went and sat down at my table again. My teacher then came over and asked me to come with her to her desk. I followed my teacher at a slow pace, with nervousness knocking at my stomach. When we got to her desk she had me sit on one of the mini chairs she had pulled up to the side of it. Mrs. Reed had a look of worry and confusion on her face. “Did you glue those onto your shirt?” she asked pointing to my proud little drawings I had done. “Yes” I replied with excitement. Mrs. Reed’s face tilted down to the floor then back to my face. “Harmony, why did you glue paper to your shirt dear?”. I looked at Mrs.Reed “ I just wanted to be like the other kids. My mom must of forgot about today or something.” I said as I swung my legs slightly from the chair. “ Did you shower today Harmony?” Mrs. Reed asked. “Well, no my mom was asleep and I didn’t want to wake her up. She gets real upset and yells at me.” I replied. “Thank you Harmony, you can go join the rest of the class.”

That night after school I took my time walking the 1 block from the bus stop like I always did. When I got home my mom was sitting at the kitchen table with a cigarette lit and posed between her fingers. My mother looked at me with anger in her eyes. “Harmony, why did you tell the teacher I yell at you?” she said to me with a hissing undertone in her voice. “I’m sorry Mommy, I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me Mommy, Please.” I broke into tears knowing what was about to happen. My mother was short in stature and weighed over 300 lbs. Recently I feared this woman more than I felt comforted by her. My mother got up from her place at the table and headed towards me. “Shut the f**k up! You little b***h, I can’t believe you told them I yell at you.” (Slap) “You don’t tell those, Mother Fuckers anything that happens in this house.” (Slap) “Do you hear me?” She asked as she shook my body with her hands tightly gripped into my arms. (Slap) “Do you………..” Suddenly my mother's face looked horrified. I felt a hot liquid running from beneath my nose. It filled my mouth with a taste I would never forget. I was still crying, and now I was confused. I turned away from her and ran into my room and shoved my face in a white pillow case. I lifted my head and seen a bright red large stain of blood. I buried my face deeper in the pillow trying to stifle the blood. I fell asleep sometime during my cry into the pillow and heavy breathing.

When I awoke my mom was sitting on my bed looking at me. I felt afraid. Afraid was now a feeling that took over most of my emotional being. My mom laid her hand on my back and rubbed it. In that instant I forgave her. I wanted to forgive her. She was my mom. I knew she loved me even when she was hurting me. I knew she felt bad for what she had done, because now she was crying. Repeating the word why. I didn’t know why. I just felt it was all my fault, everything. If I would of been quite and not said anything would things never have happened this way?

I now know that my mother suffered from Bipolar Disorder and Severe Depression. My mothers Alcoholism on top of her Mental health issues is what tore everything down. Never would I have thought that she would lay a hand on me to hurt me before. Our times together used to be spent making Christmas cookies, carving pumpkins, taking road trips to the beach, and playing at the parks. I wanted that mommy back. I wanted my mommy back so bad. I ached for that nurturing feeling. If only this was the end of these episodes. It was just the beginning.