Darling I'm No Angel

"Your father an I never prepared ourselves for this conversation," Mom said, "maybe I should wait till he comes back." She said pacing in front of me.

I watched my mom contemplate for a while. She started out speaking to me then began having a conversation with herself. I got up to hesitantly walk over to her. She mumbled words I couldn't understand. I placed my hands on both of her shoulders to stop her from moving. When she looked up from me her eyes were wet and her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Your my daughter!" She cried out.

"I know mom." I said trying to pull her into a hug. We had gotten into an argument and I'm sure that was not how she pictured seeing me after all this time, angry at her. Something else was wrong. I had never seen mom cry especially not like this. Even when my grandparents passed away I couldn't even tell if she was sad or not,but of course she was. Mom always did an excellent job at hiding away her emotions. We differed much that way. I cry all the time. When I'm happy, when I'm sad, when mostly I'm frustrated with the world or the people in it. So basically all the time. Never my mom though so this was unusual.

"I can't do this." Mom said weeping harder now.

"Can do what?" I asked.

"The first second I held you in my arms I knew you were mine." She said roughly wiping her face. I hadn't the slightest of clue as to why she was crying nor what she was crying about. "Mom you aren't making any sense." I told her.

She nodded her head in disagreement. "I am."

For a quick second I looked at her. I looked at the color in her eyes they were the lightest shade of green in the iris, but you wouldn't know that if they weren't so red from her crying. Looking at her nothing about us was the same. My mother's face was sculpted so perfectly that she didn't even have to try when it came to beauty. With her long blonde hair that fell around her face and slim figure. People who knew us closely would say Chloe was going to grow up to be her little doppelgänger. I on the other didn't look like any of my parents and I didn't notice that till now. "What are you trying to say exactly?"

"We agreed to tell you when you were eighteen, but we never got the chance after all that's happened in the past year." Mom spoke quietly. Like depending on the tone in her voice would soften the blow. I expected her to tell me this agonizing declaration. The words never slipped out of her mouth. I took in a deep uneasy breath, then I let it go.

"The suitcase on the floor does it have clothes for me in it?" I asked her. She wrinkled her forehead bemused that I showed no more interest in her nonsensical babble.

"Umm," she cleared her throat and spoke more clearly, "yes I bought you a few new things. Shirts, pants, undergarments, and a couple of toiletry items I thought you might need." I flashed a week smile turning around and trying to spot out the bag that apparently belonged to me. "Elizabeth called me earlier she said was running late, but she would come see you later." Mom said sounding like her self again between each sniffle.

"Alright, I'm going to hop in the shower and do something with this hair." I laughed running a hand through my thick tousled hair. But there was no hint of humor coming from either one of us. "Victoria I am so sorry that you had to see me like that." She said.

I looked through a small travel sized suitcase that still had a price tag attached to the zipper. It had clothes inside and a CVS bag that contained items like deodorant, shaving razors, a toothbrush, shampoo, etc. I picked up the plastic bag leaving the clothes as they were. I stood at the door that led me into the bathroom in my room. My hand wrapped tightly around the silver door knob. "I really wish people would stop telling me that they were sorry." My head hung down facing the ground, but before I allowed her the chance to speak I slammed the door behind me.

I combed through my damp hair letting it all hang to the side. This moment in my head felt like déjà vu. Out of curiosity I turned around to see if it was really there. Letting my back hit the reflection in the mirror before my eyes I saw the scars that I had dreamt about have seeing before. With a somewhat leveled head now I still carry around uncertainties. I remembered I didn't get the healed over scars from the accident like I thought before. I hear the sound of the door on the outside. I'm not sure if someone had just entered or left. Frankly I didn't care. I needed to be alone and not have to explain myself for anything. Or to try an convince myself that I am alright. I felt so sad and the worst part I did surely understand why. I looked at myself in the mirror and I ask myself did I know what my mother was painfully trying to say? The voice in my head echoed no, but the way my lips moved sounded an awful lot like the word yes.

A towel was wrapped tightly around my breast and the fabric fell a little above my knees. The cold air made goosebumps appear on my skin. My hair still damp behind me and I cracked open the door to see if my mom was still here. I didn't see her so I pushed the door wide open. I closed the door behind me and Harry stood next to the oak painted door. Normally I would've been spooked cause I was caught off guard. We looked at each other mentally daring the other to say something first. My eyes darted down to what he was holding in his hand. It was a red gift bag with a congratulatory balloon attached to it.

"I wanted to get you something before I came back, but I didn't know exactly what to get you." Harry said handing me the bag.

"You didn't have to get me anything." I told him. He gave me a passive look. "So what am I to be congratulated for?" I asked looking up at the blue balloon.

"I hear you will be leaving soon." He said saying it as a statement rather than a question.

"I doubt it they'll probably just transfer me to the psychiatric ward." I said still gazing up at the balloon.

"I guess you'll be seeing me there as well then." Harry joked, I think. "So what's in the bag?" I said peeking inside.

"I passed by this eerie looking art shop and just the decor alone caught my eye." He said sounding impressed with himself. Going in blind I reached my hand down and felt my hand around for the content. Initially it felt like a book. I pulled it out and it was a large tan skin leather bound book with blank sketch paper on the inside. The detailing on the cover is what fascinated me the most. It was a map of the world. A suede cord tide around it and a vintage black key dangled on the end next to a quote painted in red on the bottom of the right side. "Unlock your mind and let your creativity guide you on your next greatest adventure." It read.

"You probably hate it don't you? I should have just gotten you jewelry instead." Harry said reaching for the sketchbook. I pulled it away holding it closer to me. "No I love it, thank you." I said smiling, this time actually meaning it.

"You don't have to thank me." I stared passed him staring into nothing. Feeling that unexplainable sadness again. "Victoria are you feeling aright?" Harry asked me. I didn't say anything. Harry got directly in front of me leaning down a bit so he could look me in the eyes.

"Tell me?" He said pleading with me.

"I'm not okay and I don't know what's wrong with me. Just whatever you say don't tell me I'm going to be fine. Cause right now I wouldn't believe you." I said urging myself not to break apart. Harry removed the book from my clutches and tossed it in a chair. He caressed the side of my cheek with the back of his index finger. Then took both the palms of his hands forming them underneath my face. The smallest touch from Harry jolted me to the only pace I wanted to be and that was with him. If only for a moment I didn't want to ignore this aching nuisance that's been taunting me from the time I saw him again.

I leaned my head forward and I kissed the bottom of his chin. His eyes closed then quickly fluttered opened. Harry dropped his hands from my face. Like he knew what I wanted wasn't a rational idea. "If I kiss you I don't believe I have the self control in me to stop." He gasped aloud.

Harry's eyes I knew too well rested on my face, and then next his mouth was on mine. My lips moved against his as he aggressively kissed me back. Suddenly I saw images of my family being shocked if they should walk in. That alone should have cautioned me to think over what Harry and I was about to do. It was the unprecedented emotion I was now feeling urged me not to end it so soon.
I stumbled backwards till I could feel the end of the table near the wall behind me. My hand by habit tugged and pulled at it his hair. I scooted back so far that I sat on the edge of the table. I pulled him closer, each second I'm not near him it's torture even though he's stealing away every breath that I breathe.

Tightly he wrapped his hand around my waist so tight that I might dissolve from his touch. Harry wore a long sleeved black shirt which I found frustrating. I wanted nothing more than to see it on the floor. I tugged at the bottom of it. I placed my cheek next to his face and he left wet kisses down the corners of my jaw to the nape of my neck."This is a stupid shirt." I said.

I could feel the vibrations from his chest in a result to laughter. "You find this funny?" I said leaning to swiftly kiss him on the mouth. "I find no amusement what so ever." He says running the tip of his nose along my collar bone. Harry raised up for a moment to pull his shirt over his head exposing all of his tattoos. My hand traced over the band on his jeans, then his tattoos. I stopped when I reached in between the tattoo of the two birds. Out of know where my mind derails itself and I'm listening to a conversation I had a long time ago with someone I cherished highly. That person being other than Harry.

"Of course I want you to be happy. That's why I want you to propose to her." I remembered myself saying those exact words.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry asked, reeling me out of my daydream. I looked up to him and decided on what I wanted like I did many months ago. Yet I somehow I'm never really wise when it comes to making up my mind. "I'm sure."

Notes