I'd rather have bad times with you...

Victoria Yarbrough

November 9, 2011

Monologue

Today is the day. The judge will determine if I get to go back home to my mama. It’s been so long and I’ve tried so hard to be a good person. I’ve been on my best behavior. I brought my grades up, I apologized to all the punks I beat up, and I even cut off the ties with the drug suppliers. It all was hard, but I don’t want to go to another home where those people could care less about me. Where they forget to feed me, tell me I can’t go outside, and make me sleep on the floor. They're all liars, and pretend to give a damn in front of the authorities. I just want my mama to want me. I even promised God that I’d be better and I don’t get into that religion stuff. No more fighting, no more staying out late, and definitely no more selling drugs. I’m not a bad person though, all I’ve done, good or bad has been for my mama. I was tired of seeing her struggle with the rent, and living paycheck to paycheck. Especially when something could be done. I had to do something, right? My daddy ain’t shit; he left at snap of a finger. For my trying to help, they blamed my poor mama saying:

“Ms. Peters, your son is out of hand, and you have no control over him. We feel that it’d be best if he lived with a more organized family.”

 But the crazy thing about it is, she didn’t even cry or beg for me to stay. She just let them take me. I expected some real dramatic Life time scene where she’d be beating people’s ass’s for me. Instead, she pulled a poker face, signed some papers, and looked right through me. I felt the chill that lived in her eyes. She didn’t want me. I tried to help her and she didn’t want me. So why do I want to go back to her so bad? We don’t even get along and all we do is bicker. She wanted for me to have a better life though, but I am content with struggling if it means I can be with her. I’ll put up with the senseless fighting. I’ll find another way to help her. Hell, I’ll get a job even though I hate working. I’d rather have bad times with her than good times with someone else. Oh God, I hope the Judge makes the right decision. I can’t stand living with her, but I can’t stand living with those other people even more. I want to feel a mother’s tough love, not the synthesized version they’re trying to spoon feed me.They don't know my mama, and she's not a bad person. I was. But I've changed.