I don't like visiting my mother, but I promised I would. As I get into my car, I can feel my stomach turning. My mom lives about 45 minutes away and I hate making the drive to her house. The roads are winding and rocky, and they don't help the headache I always get before visiting mom. I begin my journey with many things on my mind. I wonder what time I'll get back home and I wonder if Leora will be waiting for me. I think about how the last few visits with mom have went. I hope she's in a good mood this time.

The silence of the car is usually comforting to me, but not now. I don't keep any cds in my car, even though right now I'm wishing I did. I find a cd buried beneath the seat, and decide to put it in. It's an old album by the Cure, and it reminds me of my childhood. When I was twelve or thirteen I found the album at a record store, and I remember begging my mom for it. After she bought it, I listened to it non-stop. Robert Smith's tragic voice was like candy to my ears and his lovely poetry was just one of the many reasons I enjoyed the album. I smiled as his voice filled my speakers, remembering how much I used to love listening to this. For awhile I forget I'm even anxious, forget I'm on the way to visit a woman I despise.

I pull into the driveway and let out a sigh, turning off the car and staring up at the house. It is so daunting just standing there, and I feel small. Finally I tell myself it's now or never and I go inside. I don't hear anything and I call out for mom, but she doesn't answer. I hear muffled crying coming from the bedroom. I brace myself and make my way inside. There she is, hidden beneath the covers with her eyes red. On her face is a look of gut-wrenching pain, a pain that makes me sick to my stomach. I can't bear to look at her as I sit on the edge of the bed, tapping my fingers on my knee and trying not to look at her. I can't stand being around her when she's depressed. She wails and she moans and she's the whole reason I moved out of the house at sixteen years old.
"Hi mom," I say in a low whisper, my voice practically getting caught in my throat. I can feel her burning gaze on me and she lets out a loud sigh.

"I didn't think you were ever going to come visit me. I'm withering away up here and you don't even care. I haven't heard from Steven in three days and I just can't stand this anymore. I just- what do I do to deserve this? Why does everyone leave me? Am I such an awful person? I can't ever focus on myself for one second and I can't ever worry about myself but does that matter to anyone? No. He doesn't even take 2 minutes to call me and let me know he's okay. He could be laying on the floor dead for all I know. He could at least fucking call. This is the consideration I get after being there for him after his father died. This is what I get for being a nice person." She tells me between short gasps for air and loud sobs that make me want to tear my ears off. I look at her and she's staring straight at me, her green eyes glimmering with an anger I know very well. It is then I notice she's even skinnier than usual, her arms like tiny branches sticking out of her miniscule torso. There are bags under her eyes and she looks sickly. And as she continues talking, I close my eyes and begin picturing various ways to kill myself.

I am dragging a razorblade over my arm and blood is eagerly rising to the surface. I push the blade deeper into my skin and let a hissing noise escape my throat.

I fasten a rope to the ceiling, make a noose, and put it over my head. I kick away the chair and flail around until I am dead.

I hold a mountain of pills in my hands and I down them, washing them away with a plastic bottle of cough syrup. I fall into a deep sleep and never wake up.

In my hands I have a shiny black gun. I place it against my temple and I can feel the cold metal. I let out a maniacal laugh as I pull the trigger.

I am jerked from these bizarre fantasies when my mom starts yelling at me. "WHAT ARE YOU SMILING ABOUT?!" She screams, and I wipe the smile from my face. I shrug my shoulders, not meeting her gaze. I can't tell her what I'm really thinking about. She will just think I'm crazy, like everyone else does. I stand up, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"I have to go." I mutter, hurrying down the stairs and into my car, grateful to be leaving. I can't stand being near her another second without actually going into the bathroom and taking a razor to my wrist. I draw a breath, starting the car and backing out of the driveway. I'm too upset on the drive home to even bother listening to music. I drive in silence, my eyes trained on the road. When I get home, there she is, sitting on my porch. Leora stands up as I get out of the car, and I can see the thin-lipped smile on her face. Neither of us say a word. I take her hand and lead her inside, locking the door behind us.

"Where were you?" She asks me once we take a seat on the couch. I can see the curiosity in her eyes. I cross my arms, looking at her carefully before I speak.

"My mom's." I say after awhile, not wanting to say more. She nods in understanding, forcing my arms apart and leaning closer to me. Her scent of roses makes me smile, and I enjoy the feeling of her head against my shoulder. I touch her hair, gazing at her fondly. Her hair is so soft and beautiful, and I start to wonder if maybe there is such a thing as angels. She looks up at me and then she slowly brings her lips to mine, the pleasure washing over me like a warm rain.

"Can I stay over tonight?" Her delicate voice rings out as she kisses my cheek, making a trail all the way to my forehead. I tell her that she can, and she smiles at me again. After sitting there awhile, I decide I want to get into bed. I make my way up the stairs, listening to her soft footsteps behind me and going into my room. I slip off my clothes and slide into the bed, letting out a shudder of pleasure as she gets into with me, her warm body pressed against mine. I think about maybe making love to her, but decide I'm too tired. I lay there for a few minutes listening to her breathe before I finally fall asleep.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading so far. I know the chapters aren't long and I apologize for that. The main character is loosely based on myself, and her mother is completely based off of my own. Leora, well, I guess she's based on my idea of a dream girl. Anyway, review if you'd like.