A Not-So-Warm Welcome

The entire trip home, it feels like my brain is on autopilot. I barely seem to pay attention to anything around me. I'll admit that it's probably a little dangerous to drive so haphazardly, but I just can't be bothered to focus right now. It's like I've become numb to my own life. And knowing what's waiting for me at home isn't making it any better.

Eventually, after what feels like forever, I manage to pull into the driveway of a seemingly quaint looking house on the outskirts of town. For most people, I'm sure this is where they'd finally be able to take a breath and relax. Unfortunately, I'm still not quite to that point yet. Let's just hope I can make it too my room without too much hassle...

I get out of my car and walk over to the door. I pause a moment to collect myself before sliding my key into the lock, hearing a loud click sound as I turn it in my hand. With that, I push the door open and quickly make my way inside, knowing that if I move fast enough, there's a chance I might make it upstairs relatively unscathed. In retrospect, I probably should have known better, as I don't even manage to make it halfway through the living room before I hear a voice behind me.

"Where do you think you're going in such a hurry?"

Here we go...

I slowly turn around to face a small blonde woman sitting on the living room couch, staring directly into my soul with her piercing blue eyes. A woman who just so happens to be my mother. And don't let her looks fool you. Despite the porcelain skin, elegant fashion sense, and overall charming appearance, my mom is quite possibly the toughest person I've ever met. All it takes is a single word from her to put a knot in someone's stomach. And I should know, seeing as I have one myself right now. She doesn't take anything from anybody and isn't afraid to let people know how she really feels about them. She once told me that she used to beat up anyone who even thought about making fun of her back when she was in school, and honestly, I 100% believe that. No one messes with Melinda Evans.

And in case I haven't made my point about how tough my mom is, I want you to take a guess what her job may be. Right now, she's wearing a monochrome dress with red heels with matching lipstick (which, by the way, is about the most color you'll ever see her wear), so maybe an office job? Is she a CEO? I've heard people say she gives off college professor vibes. Perhaps a real estate agent? Well, most people are shocked to learn that she's actually a mechanic. Yeah, the dresses and makeup are really just an at-home thing. Most of the time, she's in a dirty jumpsuit tuning up cars. In fact, basically the only reason that scrap of metal I just parked in the driveway runs at all is because of how good she is with a wrench. What can I say? She's good at what she does and seems to enjoy it. That's more than I can say about my job. Plus I think she also likes knowing that she works with a bunch of super macho dudes, and yet is still probably stronger than just about all of them...

"Ahem!" My mother clears her throat after a moment of waiting for me to speak. "Well? Aren't you going to say something? I asked you a question."

"I... uh... I was just heading up to my room. It's been a long day and I need some time to relax," I manage to explain, a slight quiver in my voice.

My mom stands up and begins walking toward me, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. Despite being a good half-foot shorter than me, with each step she takes, she only seems to tower over me more and more. I instinctively swallow as she approaches.

"Oh, so if it's been such a long day, that must mean you've been working hard out there. Maybe you've finally gotten a promotion so you're not just some shitty assistant anymore?" She asks.

"N-no, Mom."

"At least tell me you're on the way to getting a raise. You've been working at that place for over a year now," she explains, as if I somehow didn't know that piece of information.

"I... I don't think so. My boss said it's not in the budget right now."

To be honest, my boss is full of it. I'm sure they could pay me more if they wanted to, but they know how badly I need to keep this job, so they just continue stringing me along saying that I'll get a bump in pay as soon as they can manage it. They probably think I'm stupid or something. I know they'll never increase my salary if they don't have to. But like I said, I can't afford to quit.

"Typical..." my mom scoffs as she rolls her eyes. "How did my own son end up so pathetic? Don't think that means I'm going to cut your rent, which by the way, is due next week."

And now we get to the heart of the issue. The real reason I need to keep my job so badly: ever since I turned 18, my parents have been charging me rent to live with them. It's cheaper than me trying to live on my own, but they still don't make things easy. "If you want to stay under this roof, you're going to have to contribute around here. We're not going to let you be some kind of bum." That's what they told me. And so ever since then, I've been paying them rent every month. Haven't missed a payment yet, mostly out of fear of them kicking me out for being even a day late. And that doesn't even cover all my other expenses like my phone or my car. I mean, my mom won't even give me a discount when I need her to work on my car. It's brutal.

"Come on, Mom," I try to plead with her. "Can't you cut me a little slack? With some more breathing room, I'm sure I could-"

"Absolutely not! If you have such an issue with how we're treating you, you can move out anytime you want," she interrupts me.

"You know I can't afford to live on my own with my salary."

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you dropped out of school!" She retorts.

She makes it sound like I dropped out because I was too lazy or stupid or something. I actually didn't mind college. I always got work done on time, and my grades were pretty decent. In fact, I aced my first semester of calculus while I was there. Highest grade in the class. What can I say? I've always been a bit of a math kid. Anyway, the real reason I dropped out was because I couldn't afford it. The student loans were too high, and as I said before, my parents refused to help me financially. Combine that with the aforementioned rent to live with them, and I had **** but to leave and get a crappy job just to not end up homeless. And that's how I ended up here. Just some nobody in his early 20s who can't seem to catch a break. Someone who the world seems to love beating down until he can barely be bothered to care about anything anymore.

But that's enough of my sob story. I don't need anybody's sympathy. The only thing I need right now is some peace and quiet.

"Okay, Mom. You're right. I'm sorry," I finally relent. As much as I could argue with her, I've learned it's just easier to agree and try to cause as few problems as possible.

"If you were really sorry, you'd get off your lazy ass and do something about it rather than apologizing all the time like a little bitch," my mom tells me in a condescending tone.

"Yeah, I know."

This goes on for a while, with my mom continuing to lecture me on how much of a failure she thinks I am while I just go along with whatever she says until she eventually starts to tire herself out.

"I just don't know what to do with you anymore," she continues. "You know what? We can continue this discussion when your father gets home. Maybe he'll be able to come up with some kind of solution, because something has to change."

Great. Just what I needed. As if getting chewed out by one parent wasn't enough. At least that means Dad's not home yet, so that will at least give me a little time to rest. Who knows? Maybe I can even get a little shut-eye before the inevitable train wreck gets here.

Finally freed from my mother's reprimanding, I make my way towards my bedroom, though not before stopping by the kitchen for a small bite to eat (since there's basically no chance of someone else making dinner for me at this point). I also make a quick stop at the bathroom, where I notice the large bags under my eyes when washing up. If someone saw me like this, they'd probably say I look like I already have a foot in the grave. And in that person's defense, I would have to admit that there are definitely days that I feel like I do. God, I really need to change something in my life. Although, that's easier said than done. It kind of seems like there's no escape from the downward spiral that is my life...

I trudge over to my bedroom, throw my stuff down onto the floor and make my way towards my bed. I must have zoned out again, because I manage to bump into something directly in front of me without even realizing it was there. My eyes take a moment to refocus and settle on what's in front of me, but eventually I manage to make it out. And let's just say it's not what I was expecting to see...

"Hi!"

Instantly, I jump backwards in a panic. I nearly trip and fall on my face as I scramble to get away from the mysterious intruder that somehow ended up in my room. More thoughts than I can count fly through my mind as I stare at the half-dressed woman in front of me.

"Wha... how... I... uh... Who the hell are you?!"