Page 47 of Come Back to Me

She looks down at the floor. “Do you really want me to stay?”

I never want you to leave me ever again.

“We have more to talk about.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“We didn’t finish talking about what happened on the night of your sixteenth birthday party.”

“Can we leave it unfinished? We don’t have to talk about it.” She gets up, pacing back and forth in front of the TV.

“Yes, we do. It’ll be okay.”

Violet breathes out. “Fine.”

then

VIOLET | AGE 16

I’m standing in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom and studying the outfit I chose to wear for my sweet sixteen birthday party.

I wish I didn’t have to attend because I hate birthdays and the lavish parties my parents throw, but I’m happy I get to see Grayson again.

My mother appears in the doorway with her dirty blonde hair fully down, wearing a white dress and white high-heels. “Violet, guests are starting to arrive.”

“I know. You don’t need to remind me for the hundredth time.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not.”

My mother tilts her head, folding her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t you think that dress is a bit suggestive?”

I scoff. “Seriously? It reaches all the way down to the floor. I could trip on it.”

“It’s shiny and tight,” she says with no emotion on her face. “It’s not appropriate for a sixteen-year-old girl to wear to her birthday party.”

The dress I’m wearing is floor-length in a shiny, hot pink color. It’s totally appropriate for a teenage girl to wear.

“It’s pretty, and I like it.” I pause. “It’smybirthday. This ismysweet sixteen party thatyouso graciously threw forme. I’m tired of you always telling me what to wear and how to act. I’m nothing like you. It’s time for you to accept that. Let me be who I want to be. I bought this dress with my own money that I earned from working at Sweet & Salty.I’m. Wearing. It. End of story.”

My mother lifts her head up, walking over to me. Her hand comes into contact with my face, leaving me shocked and terrified. My chest is rapidly heaving and goosebumps appear all over the top layer of my skin.

She’s never hit me before.

She usually hurts me with her words, not her hand.

“Don’t you ever talk back to me like that again.” She briskly turns and walks away from me.

As my mother struts out of my bedroom, I find myself at the doorway. “I hate you!” I shout, running back into my room and slamming the door behind me.

Making my way into the bathroom, I flip on the light so I can inspect my face. I lightly touch the area where my mother hit me with my middle and ring fingers. “Goddammit.”

I bring my hands underneath my chin in an attempt to hold myself together, but it doesn’t work. I fall onto the floor with my head buried in my lap. Feeling my phone buzz, I click on a text notification from Grayson.

Grayson

Hey Angel, I’m here. Where are you?