After days of struggling to stand, I finally made progress. On Friday morning, I woke up with less pain in my legs. Determined to walk, I took a few tentative steps. Yesterday, I'd managed to stand but collapsed when I tried to walk. Today, my legs felt stronger, and more alive, I just knew I could do it. Once I gained my footing, I spent the day practicing with crutches.
When Catherine returned from school, I let her rest before heading to her room to help her prepare for the test on Monday. As I approached her door, I heard her talking on the phone. I knocked twice, but she didn't respond. After standing for a while, my legs started to ache, so I grabbed a chair from the hallway and sat down beside the door. When she finally hung up, I knocked again, and she told me to enter.
"What do you want?" she asked, still focused on her phone.
"I came to help you prepare for the test on Monday. Your mom asked me to," I replied.
Catherine looked at me briefly and said, "Alright, whatever."
I sat on Catherine's reading table and she came closer. As I started explaining math problems, Catherine's lack of attention became clear. She kept glancing at her phone.
"Catherine, you need to focus if you want to understand," I said.
She responded, "Even if I listened, I still wouldn't get it. You know what, I have an idea."
Then she made a shocking request: "During the test on Monday, sit next to me so I can copy your answers."
I was taken aback. "That's cheating!" I protested.
Catherine shrugged, "You do it, or you have an alternative plan? Because I'm not understanding anything you're saying."
I tried to reason with her, "If you just concentrate, I'm sure you'll grasp it."
But she was adamant, "Do as I say, or you might face consequences with my mother if I fail."
When I hesitated, she ordered me to leave her room. "Now leave."
I sat still for a moment. It was obvious, Catherine didn't want to learn, she just wants to cheat her way through. But if I refused, I risked facing Veronica's wrath.
"What? You ain't going?" Catherine said.
As I stood up to leave, I felt trapped. I have never cheated before. What if I get caught? Even if I did, the penalty won't be as grievous as what Veronica might do to me. I recalled Sharon's advice and decided to follow it, even if it meant going against my principles.
"Lucy, Lucy, Lucy?" a loud voice called out, jolting me awake.
My eyes still half-closed, I wondered who could be calling out to me at such an ungodly hour. I glanced at my clock, 3 am, and thought I must have misheard. I drifted back to sleep, but then I heard a loud banging on my door, followed by an urgent voice calling out my name.
"Lucy, Lucy, come out."
It was Catherine's voice, but there was something unusual about her tone. I felt annoyed at being woken up so early, but her urgency sparked curiosity. What could have happened? I quickly put on the light, grabbed my crutches, and made my way to her room.
When I reached her door, I found it slightly opened. My hand was barely on it when I had things falling to the ground. It seems Catherine was breaking things. I took a few steps backwards in fright but the next thing I heard wasn't expected. Catherine was crying.
The situation was alarming, and I didn't know what to expect. But since Catherine had called out to me, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. I saw her on the floor, weeping bitterly. She looked pitiful, and I had never seen her like this before.
"Catherine, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep my distance.
But she didn't respond; she just kept crying. I walked closer, stretched out my hand to touch her, and she grabbed it, pulling me into a tight embrace. She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably. I was stunned by her reaction, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the intensity of her emotion. I couldn't imagine what had caused such anguish. Even though I had sometimes wished for her to experience a bit of hardship so she could understand the way she had treated others, it was hard to see her in such a state. As she clung to me, trembling and soaked in sweat, I felt a surge of sympathy for her.
Catherine's eyes welled up with tears as she sat beside me, her arm releasing its hold on my body. I adjusted my legs, which were still aching from her earlier embrace. As I looked at Catherine, I felt a mix of emotions. My gaze drifted to my legs, the pain a reminder of her past cruelty. Anger flared up, but it melted as I saw the pain etched on her face.
Catherine's sobs shook her body, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Why does my mother treat me like this?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"It's this what it's like to have a mother?" She continued, her words pouring out in a heartbreaking stream.
"What kind of mother neglects her child? She's been absent my whole life, even when we're under the same roof. She never makes time for me."
Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks as she spoke. I wasn't sure if she expected a response or just needed to vocalize her pain.
"I don't think my mother ever loved me," Catherine whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I've always wondered why she's so distant, why she never cared. I thought maybe she was just busy, but over time, I realized it wasn't that."
Catherine's eyes seemed to cloud over as she recounted her childhood attempts to get her mother's attention.
"I did everything to get her to notice me. I got hurt, pretended to be sick, even acted out in school. But she never showed any concern. Other people always took care of me, but she never did." Her voice was laced with sarcasm and pain.
Tears continued to fall as she spoke, "I feel like a burden, like I'm not the child she wanted,"
"Maybe she never wanted a child, and that's why she sees me as a chore she can't be bothered with. She's gone again, and I have no idea when she'll return. My dad's been away for years, and she's never told me anything about him. I worry about him, but she doesn't seem to care. At least when he was here, he showed me some love. I miss him every day." Catherine said, her words spilling out rapidly.
"If only he was here, I wouldn't care where mother goes," she said, her longing for her father evident.
As she rested her head on the bed frame, Catherine's gaze drifted off. "You know, Lucy, when I was younger, I'd often sneak to your room and listen to Sharon spend time with you on your birthdays. I know it's the one day a year you get to see her, but you both cherish it so much. I always envied your relationship."
As I sat with Catherine, I couldn't help but notice the cruel irony of our situation. Sharon, who wasn't my biological mother, had always shown me love and care, while Veronica, Catherine's own mother, seemed to withhold affection from her own daughter. Listening to Catherine's struggles, I felt a mix of emotions, compassion for her pain, but also lingering anger and resentment from years of mistreatment by her and her mother. Yet, in that moment, I saw that we both had our own struggles. Catherine could be kind to me, but only when Veronica wasn't around. That made me wonder if Veronica's influence was behind Catherine's cruelty. As Catherine leaned into me, exhausted, her tears subsiding,
I whispered, "I'm so sorry," unsure what else to say.
We sat in silence, and before long, I drifted off to sleep, the weight of our shared struggles settling in.