Brie Newman's POV Part 3

‘Mom what do you mean you can’t come get me?’
After two hours had passed, I thought it was time to call my mother and remind her to pick me up from the hospital.
I had a hard time getting a hold of her.
It didn’t surprise me that she sounded like she was on something.
The nurse behind the front desk had started giving me a few dirty looks.
She silently let me know that I had far out stayed my welcome.


‘Look Brie, I’m sorry...something came up...I moved Javier in.’
‘Javier? Wait! You mean the pool guy?’
‘Um...yeah.’


‘So, How does that stop you from sending someone to pick me up?’
‘Look Brie, I think you should call your father. He has that nice big house. Stay with him.’
‘Hold up! I can’t stay with Dad! He doesn’t want me around.’
I could feel the tears running down my cheeks.
I knew my mother would never win the title ‘Mother of the Year’, but I never thought she would pull a stunt like this.
‘You’re an adult now Brie, you should be on you own anyway. I’ve got to have a life too.’


‘You’re just going to leave me stranded? I can’t believe this!’
The snooty nurse behind the counter glared at me like I was a freak.
I’m so sick of people giving me that look.
I also had a bad feeling that surgery was not going to solve all of my problems.
‘Call a cab and have Dex pay for it when you get there. I’ll have your things sent over to his house.’


Though Dad had to pay court ordered child support, Mom never gave me any cash.
Other than my room at her Penthouse apartment and food, I got little else from her.
I suppose she only paid for this surgery to get me out of the house.
It was probably her plan all along.
She had been angry when Dad refused to help pay for college.
I was disappointed because being knowledge oriented, I desired to further my education.
I knew Mom was mad because since I graduated boarding school, she now had me under foot.
‘Brie, listen to me. Your entitled to anything your father has. You should take advantage of it.
It’s your right. Stand up to him! Just go to his office and tell him you’re moving in.’
She had to be kidding!
Dad would probably laugh in my face and have me thrown out!
He certainly wouldn’t want me to show up at his office looking the way I did.
‘I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!’
‘Stop whining Brie and grow up! I’m entitled to a life of my own and you’re equally entitled to everything that @#$%! father of yours has. Grow a back bone and demand it from him!’
I felt like I was in the middle of a nightmare.


Now two nurses were openly staring at me.
They rolled their eyes at one another.
I was so sick of being treated like I wasn’t good or pretty enough to dare share valuable resources to stay alive.
Why do people judge me before they even bothered to get to know me!
Something in me snapped!
‘I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that my child support payments stopped last week!
You’re a sorry excuse for a mother!’
Then I said yelled something out loud that I’ve kept hidden in the deepest recesses of my soul.


‘I wish that it was you that died instead of Sasha! She was much more a mother to me than you ever were!
In spite of any problems she may have had, she was still a better person. I hate both you and Dad!’
*click*


I couldn’t believe I finally said that out loud.
I’d never yelled at my mother before.
I’ve always let her and Dad shuffle me back and forth like I was an unwanted object instead of a human being with feelings.
However; I didn’t know what else I could do, but to take a cab to Dad’s office.
I hope he wasn’t going to throw me out too. I was suddenly very scared.
Neither of my parents ever prepared me for an adult life.
I was only allowed to come home on holidays and summer vacation when I was in school.
That was only because the school itself shut down.
I was the only student that didn’t get to go home on weekends.
Shakily, I asked the nurse for a phone book.
She shoved it at me in a hateful manner.
‘You need to keep your voice down.’
I would have loved to tell her off, but the normal sniveling Brie had returned.
God, I hate myself.