I wrote this for English Class. I think my teacher thinks it's really but it's not. It's all fiction! I hope that you enjoy it and not take in a way that she did!

WHY

I moved out of my mother's house on Feb. 28 of 2003. The very day that
I turned

18. She didn't say much, but by 7:30 PM Central time I was out of my
mother's way

forever. And I hope she's happy about that!

Ok, before I go any farther, you might want to ask "Why?" Well, this all
started

when I turned 16. My mother decided that the only way she could include me
in her life

was to criticize me. Belittlement was her favorite weapon, through. My last
2 years of

High School I spent most of my time in my room.

I never had that many friends. No, I'm not a loner or Anti-social I just
has a hard time

keeping friends. (Key word KEEPING) I don't know why they change their
minds or

jsut flat out stop talking to me, but they do. I guess it's because I'm too
forward, maybe a

little too blunt for most people's tastes, but that's the way I am.

There has only been one person who has stayed with me for my entire
school

career. His name is Wayne. Wayne and I met in the 1st grade. He's been
with me ever

since. He asked me one day..."You're 17 why are you still living with
your Ma?" I

didn't answer him that day. I just turned and walked away. Nothing new to
him, he

knows if I don't want to talk about something, I just remove myself from
the

conversation.

I don't know why I didn't tell him what my mother says or even
does when she

and I are alone. I guess I was afraid, he would think, I was weak-
afraid of my

Mother, her words, her looks, her action. I never was a big guy, but I
could take

care of myself. There were times I got in trouble for fighting in
school, so

everyone knew I was tough.

She never hit me, well not hard enough to leave a bruise. Mostly it
was up side

the head or on my forehead. (You know, the way when someone is telling
you to

think) Well, what can I do, when she does that? I can't hit her! She's
my mother!

But still it hurt more than you think it would.

This is the first time I've ever spoken about this. It's funny
you know. Not

having the balls to tell anyone what she's done. To live your life in
fear of an

older woman. Even if it is the woman who gave birth to you.

I was in a deep depression during the time I turned 16 until I
moved. No

one knew. No one realized it. But how could they? The only one who
paid any

attention to me was Wayne. He had his "feelings" that something was
wrong, but

I never talked to him about it. In fact I never talked about it to
anyone.

It's been 4 months since I've moved. It took her 3 months to realize
that I wasn't

going to call her. It took her nearly 4 months to call me. The first
time she called I

let my answer machine get it. She said the usual stuff " Hello, How
you doing? Is

everything ok? (And the big one) Why haven't you called?"

I never called her back. But a week later she called again. This time
I answered.

There wasn't much of a coversation between her and I but in the end
she did say

" It was good talking to ya." I didn't say anything.

I'm ...I'm not sure on what will happen later, but I think she knows
that I'm

not going to call her. Nor do I have any interest in talking to her.
Maybe later in

life I'll have some reason or want to talk to her, but for now I
don't.

Before we hung up the phone that night she said, "I have one more
question." " I

said, " Sure, ask away." (With a lot of sarcasm in my words) she asked
" Why?" I

didn't say anything to that. In fact all I said was "Goodnight mom"
and hung up.

THE END