Walking On Eggshells (Creative Nonfiction)

It was like listening in on a conversation that was meant to be private but was being put on speaker for everyone to hear. Bella felt even more despicable at the fact that her presence did nothing to hinder her mother's blabbering, for here she was, openly discussing the first man, the only man, that Bella had ever hated.

She was visiting her mother for the summer. Their relationship had always been a tumultuous one, but at the very least summer vacation was able to make the task of visiting a bit easier. The July sun had risen and was cheerfully shining down on her mother's tiny garden of rhubarb, while her mother and partner talked amongst themselves. Bella was recalling the conversation she had only had about the fruit moments before:

"I've never had rhubarb raw before, but it's delicious in a pie, dontcha think? Mum, would you bake us rhubarb pie once its ready?"

Her elders' conversation was not one that she was particularly interested in hearing; they were discussing her grandfather. She hadn't seen him in a few years but Bella knew that, as of recent, he was not doing too well... Heart attack, or a stroke -- something to that effect -- and he had been hooked up in the hospital ever since. Bella didn't wish to discuss the matter, for fear that her true emotions would break free, and a smile would creep out...

"He isn't doing too well..." she could hear her mother quietly say from across the backyard, where her parents sat discussing the matter on the patio. "They say there's still brain activity, but he's not being very receptive..."

Bella awkwardly snuck by them, to open the back sliding door and make her way into the house. She didn't want to hear anymore on the issue. Instead she decided to focus on what to make for lunch. The rhubarb had made her stomach rumble, and although her mother's boyfriend had promised his famous jambalaya shrimp for dinner, that was still several hours away! Hmm... Egg on toast? Macaroni and cheese was always a stellar choice...

Her train of thought was broken by the sound of the sliding door once again, this time to grant her parents permission into the house, where Bella could still hear her mother discussing the unfortunate event.

" -- so I'll be going down to see him again on Wednesday. I don't know if my mum is coming or not, but I'll double-check with her."

The boyfriend's response came as a question that Bella struggled to hear: "Won't Bella be going too?"

There was a sarcastic laugh from her mother. "No. Bella doesn't see him." Silence, as though the boyfriend was confused and patiently waiting for another clue. Her mother gave it to him: "Something happened between them, and Bella just hasn't seen him since."

It was like listening in on a conversation that was meant to be private but was being put on speaker for everyone to hear. Bella felt even more despicable at the fact that her presence did nothing to hinder her mother's blabbering, for here she was, openly discussing the first man, the only man, that Bella had ever hated. A man that had stolen her childhood from her every time that her mother had sent Bella to visit him. And here she was, tittering about the matter like it were some piece of Friday night gossip.

Naturally, the boyfriend couldn't leave it at that, for his curiosity was peaked. "What do you mean 'something happened?'"

Bella evaded the topic once again, only this time she did not have the patience to tiptoe through. Bella whipped past the living room wall that barricaded her from her parents, then flew up the stairs, all the while listening to her mother explain that, "Bella's just never enjoyed visiting him, and now that she's becoming an adult, I can't force her to go." Implying that if not for her daughter's own autonomy, her mother would still choose to throw her into the lion's den?

Bella went into the guest room, which was her temporary bedroom when she came to visit, and closed the door behind her. Three years... It had been three years since the truth had been revealed, and her mother still chose to treat it like a joke. To treat her like a joke! Her mother could not have been more blatant about how she felt when she immediately took Bella to see her abuser after first finding out the truth!

She couldn't depend on her mother for protection. She couldn't depend on her mother for understanding. Was she really her mother at all?...

The rest of the summer passed by quietly and uneventfully; they had enjoyed one night of fireworks together as a family, and the days were spent playing video games. Bella had always found the Just Dance games to be embarrassing, but within the privacy of the basement, she had managed to find it fun once away from prying eyes.

Her mother sipped on her drink from Starbucks while her other hand guided the car steering wheel down the highway. "Well, I'm sorry if things weren't very exciting during this visit," she abruptly began, "but I hope you had fun, at least!"

Fun was one way of putting it... That summer had been an eye-opener -- a wake-up call, if you will. Bella realized she could not continue to have a relationship with her mother if it meant walking on eggshells, and she finally recognized that it wasn't the child's responsibility to take on the role of the parent...

(Image created using an AI art generator on Night Cafe)

So she wrote a letter. A letter explaining why Bella could no longer continue having a relationship with her mother. Bella would give it to her mother for her drive back home, there would be no time for interruptions or objections, and Bella did not know if she would ever hear from her again. Even if she didn't, this needed to be done...