Page 24 - Contrast2015

When I was home throughout that week, I
could keep my mother out of my room. When
I had to be at school for graduation practice
and other assemblies, I trusted that my aunt
and uncle could keep her out. Unfortunately,
they could not. While my uncle napped and
my class practiced walking across the stage,
my mother decided to begin “cleaning.” When
I came home, I was furious. My uncle
apologized for not being awake and able to
stop her.

“You know I can’t keep still for more than
five minutes!” my mom explained. It wasn’t
her fault, of course not—I should have known
better. Regardless, she promised not to do it
again.

The next day, the same thing happened. I
had an event at school, my uncle was sleeping,
and my mother continued her “cleaning,”
which oddly had to begin with shoving all of
my clothes onto my bed and floor. I cried this
time, even more furious that she had explicitly
said she would not bother my room.

“Are you calling me a liar?” my mother
asked, aghast.

“You said you would do one thing, and
then you did the exact opposite!” I shouted.

My uncle agreed, nodding his head and
nervously laughing, as he often did when
dealing with his sisters. “That is the definition
of lying.” I hoped that if she wouldn’t listen to

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