Demon

Zoe:

“So you’re leaving again?” My mother asks with a tightening of her lips. I nod my head as I continue to pack my bag and ignore her aura of disapproval. “You knew that this was only temporary until I found another job, Mom. School starts again soon, and I want to make sure that I’m settled before I start classes. Sahara is letting me and Bree rent an apartment while I work at her bar. So I’ll be fine.”

At first, it looks like she’s not going to respond, but then she relaxes her stance and asks with a controlled voice, “Are you sure that’s what you want, Zoe? Sahara is not the nicest person in the world.” I snort at her comment—understatement of the year. Sahara is the biggest bitch in the world and the master of the house’s wife. And let’s not forget that I’m the master of the house’s illegitimate daughter. Not that he acknowledges me in any way.

I’m snapped back from my thoughts when my mother says, “You know you can come and work here if you want. John would be more than happy to give you a job as a maid.” Her words ignite a kernel of rage inside of me. “How monogamous of that dick to offer me a job. Of course, I’ll give up my opportunity to go back to college and my dream of becoming a songwriter and producer to be a maid.” I slap my head exaggeratedly. “Why didn’t I think of that?” My mother’s face flushes and becomes rigid with anger. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, young lady. It’s a good offer. Who’s to say that you’d make money making silly songs anyway?”

I shake my head at my mother’s delusional naiveté. “Really, mom? Are we going to keep pretending?” She sniffs, uncrossing her arms in agitation, lifting her chin up with a scowl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Zoe. I’ve been able to raise you with this job. It’s good honest work.” I snort in disgust. “Really, mom? How honest were you when you screwed the boss? Do I go out there, serve him dinner, and pretend that I don’t have his eyes? Or will he sign my checks as my father? Will I be my half-siblings’ servant? Oh, I know, maybe I can hang out with my half-sister Belinda while I serve her cocktails. Maybe I’ll do that when she and the others come back from whatever school daddy paid for. At least Sahara has the nerve to be a bitch to my face.” I utter with all the contempt I can muster. It amazes me that my mother can be so submissive and deluded. I just don't understand how she can't wish for me to do better in life, how she can turn a blind eye to how John and his children treat me.

My mother’s face pales at my words. But she recovers quickly and crosses her arms over her chest with a stubborn sputter. She recovers quickly, though, and brushes off my comment as if it wasn't in any way valid. “Let’s not start this again.” I shake my head at her dismissive tone. “Yeah, let’s not start this again, mom. I don’t care what you say. I’m going back to school, and I’m going to become somebody with or without your support!”

My mother looks like she’s going to say more but thinks better of it and walks away. Once she's out of the room, I slump down on the bed and rest my hands on my knees. “I can’t believe I ever came back here,” I mutter in disbelief.