Mother

"Every time I come to yer room, it's always a mess, I tell ya, a mess!" My mom nagged as she takes random pieces of unwashed clothing all over my room. "What have I ever done to ya to make ya this lazy about cleaning yer surroundings!? Look, there's a piece of chip on yer mattress! Ye're not even covering it with a bed sheet for crying out loud! When are ye even buying a proper bed anyway? Do ye want to grow a fungi farm underneath this damn thing? Oh! The damn thing smells like damp shit! I'll buy ye a new mattress next week, so go make yerself a favor and buy a bed frame, will ya!? Sheesh! I'm telling ya, it's not that expensive."

I just came out of the bathroom after hurriedly showering, or at least that's what I would like to call it, but in reality, I just smudged a bit of soap all over my exposed skin and clumsily spread a bit of shampoo all over my head before swiftly washing it all off with cold water. I'm not quite sure if the usage of 'all' is really accurate here since I literally can still feel a bit of soap around my armpits.

"I get, I get it," I said while before clicking my tongue as I quickly dried my body with a moist towel. I still feel a bit of a wet spot around the corners of my body, but I couldn't be bothered to wipe them all off now. "I'll get one tomorrow."

"That's exactly what ya told last week, too, for crying out loud! Stop lying to yer mother for once and go help yerself!" My mother continued to nag before turning her head towards my direction. She then dropped all of the used laundries that she's holding inside of a plastic basket before briskly walking towards me. She then smacked the back of my head with her palm before pulling my towel away from my hands. "Look at this shit ye're using to wipe yer body with! Look, it looks like a yellow shit! When I bought this for ya last week, it had a lovely mustard color, and now look at it, huh? Look at it! It looks like a diarrhea towel! How dense are ya for still using this damn shit to wipe your body! Ya haven't even wiped yer body properly yet! Yer back is still all too wet! Ay-ay-ay! What did I tell ya about keeping yer back dry? This is why ya always cough, cough, cough, cough every now and then!" My mother then swiftly wiped my back with the same towel that she shitted on just now. Although her words are harsh while quickly rubbing my back, she still did so with a unique sense of gentleness.

I then took the towel from her forcefully without looking at her in the eye as I clicked my tongue once again, making my mother take a step back in shock. "I get it," I mumbled underneath my breath as I wiped my body further.

My mother sighed as she took other clothes all over the floor. "Do ya still have some clothes to wear?" She said while checking the clothes stacked inside of her plastic basket, probably finding clothes that are relatively cleaner than the rest.

"I still have a few, mom," I whispered slowly as a frown appeared on my forehead while shaking my head. Why can't this woman just shut up for once? She was already talking nonstop by the time she stepped into my room.

"Good. I'll buy you more clothes you can wear in your work later. Do you also need some more casual clothes?" My mother said with a sigh as she gradually lowered her voice.

I don't go out much anyway, so why would I need more shit hanging around the damn place? I wanted to say that out loud, but I'm sure it would just stir her up more. Instead, I simply mumbled "Nah."

"Okay. I'll take these clothes to the laundry downstairs. You should do it sometimes too." She said as she opened the door gently while carrying the plastic basket containing the laundry with both her hands.

"Hey, mom," I mumbled as I buttoned my white long-sleeve polo.

My mother jumped after hearing this as she looked at me with an expression filled with awe. "Yes?" She mumbled timidly with eyes wide open.

"Are you still with that guy?"

"Oh..." She said like a sigh as she looked down on the floor before hesitating to continue her words. "Didn't really work out again."

"So, you broke up with him?" I said as a subtle smile crept upon my face while I struggle to wear my slacks.

"Well, what else would 'not working out' even mean but that!?" My mother replied with her usual loud voice, making me squirm as I tried to contain my temper. "We're done, that's it. We won't see each other again."

"Did he hit you too?" I said without hesitation as a grim expression enveloped my face.

My mother obviously didn't expect this question as a look of shock went all over her face. "Of course, he didn't. He's a decent man, one of the rarest kinds out there. He wouldn't do something like that. Ya know that I'd never allow a punk to mess me up like that ever again!"

"I see." I looked at her but quickly moved my gaze away from her after a few seconds. She's wearing a short-sleeve shirt, and there are no marks around her body or anything. Usually, she would try hiding her wounds with a jacket and a pair of jogging pants, but I'd always know that she's hiding those bruises from me just by looking at her face. She's probably telling the truth.

"Now, quit dawdling and make yerself presentable already!" She then looked at her wristwatch. "Ya can still make it on time if ya leave in five minutes. I'll text ya later when I get home after going to church."

"Church? You didn't go yesterday?" I mumbled as I wore a black coat on top of my white polo.

"Some stuff had to be taken care of, so I missed it, dios mio. The Lord will probably hate me for this, so I'll go attend a mass tonight and speak with Father Martin in the confessionals." She then took a step outside, but she quickly turned her head as if she had forgotten something. "Would you like to come with me later?"

"No."

I heard her grunt after hearing my reply. She then left my apartment and left my door open. I almost screamed in anger after seeing this and promptly closed the door shut before doing more things such as fixing my hair and readying my business smile in front of the mirror.

Now that I'm looking at myself, it really does feel clear that I looked a whole lot like my mother. It felt like she didn't even allow my father to give a few of his looks on my face. However, thinking about the fact that I had a near-identical face as that woman really irked me the wrong way. It is still a fact that I would never be able to escape in my entire life. Our hazel eyes, our thick eyebrows, our brown skin, our brown lips, our black, bushy hair, and our big nose all looked the same that if it weren't for my mother's wrinkles, one would have probably thought that we are twins.

I really hated that. Why do I have to be the photocopied version of a weak person like her? Even until now, it's hard for me to take any compliments about my face because it would only make me think that they're complimenting my mother, and that disgusts me to no end. Well, it's not like people really compliment me these days anyway, so that's a good thing, and I hope it will stay that way forever.

I then went outside, locked the door, and burst towards the elevator. Unfortunately, the damn thing is still on the first floor, and my floor is on the fifth. Why do these kinds of things always happen when I'm already running late? After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, I finally boarded the empty elevator booth and hurriedly ran towards the entrance as soon as it hit the first floor. I then hailed as a cab, and luckily this time, there isn't any major traffic on the road, which is highly improbable here in LA, especially on a Monday morning.

I barely made it in time to the office, so that saved me the usual nagging from my boomer ass boss. However, he still grimaced at me right after seeing my sweaty face without uttering a word as if he was disappointed that he couldn't get the chance to release his pent up anger towards me today. Tough luck to him and his sorry ass because I know he still has a grudge after that time I confronted him last week for how little he does at work. I'm sure he would like to see me dead now after knowing that I escalated it to HR. Fuck you, old man, and fuck everyone out here too for putting up with him for a chance to get promoted.

I then went straight to my messy table after greeting my two coworkers, who sat beside me in the workforce. They then greeted me back with a nod since they were both talking to someone on the phone, probably trying their best to sell the shit out company produces to some lousy business in the Bronx. I then looked at my emails by the time I sat on my hard and dusty office chair. It's the usual sales report, complaints, suggestions, spams, and some scams too, you know the drill. 

However, what struck me the most is that one unique email that I had just received ten minutes prior. I looked around me to check if someone was looking at my monitor before clicking on it to read what it had to say.

It came from an email address called veronica.pluralheights@gmail.com. The email looks kind of new, and I'm pretty sure it had only been made recently because it still has no profile picture. I dunno, though, but that seems like a viable observation. The subject of the email is "A Detailed Look at This Week's Membership Seminar—Saturday and Sunday."

I then read what it had to say and scoffed at it by the time I had seen the first few sentences alone.

"Did you know that your family is the first and the most significant hindrance you have in your life? This week's agenda is focused on overcoming your connection with your family and destroying the bonds you have created with them to remove their shackles on your heart thoroughly. Learn more this week, along with a very special guest speaker, Lucas..."

I didn't read further after that. I didn't know why I was so mad at what Veronica had just sent me. My anger wasn't even rooted in the fact that she contacted me out of nowhere, although she didn't ask for my email. After all, this is my business email, so it's posted out there in public. However, something about this family thing really irked me in the wrong way. I didn't know why I'd be this mad, especially since I'm not at all against what they had just said. All I know is that I got so angry after seeing it; thus, I closed it before I'd wreck another fit of havoc all over this cramped office.

I then felt my phone vibrate on my phone, which brought my senses back to reality as if it was telling me that I should get to work mode again. I looked at my phone, fully expecting it to be a message from a client, but I sighed instead after seeing that it was just a text from my mom.

"dont forget the bed frame i told you"

I was annoyed, but somehow, I couldn't help but chuckle. I then decided to call her, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that she took my call only after one ring.

"What is it? Did you get fired?" My mother instantly replied without even uttering any greetings.

I sighed as I rolled my eyes. "No, mom. I was on time today. Say, are you still going to the church later?"

"Of course, why?" She said, obviously sounding very confused.

"Can I come with you?"

Silence prevailed over the other side of the call before I could hear a gentle-sounding chuckle from my mother. "Of course, you can, silly! I'll wait for you later outside of your building."

"Okay. I'll see you later, then, mom."