Almost twelve hours in, I remember why I hate road trips. Hours in a car with my mother's country music CD on repeat. Though I'd remembered this problem, and brought my mp3 player, it went dead about an hour ago.
"What do you need batteries for, Violet? That silly music machine? Come on talk to me." She said, knowing I'm still angry at her.
"I can't talk to you. If I do, I'll get in trouble. Because my opinions aren't important to you anymore! And when I voice them, you treat me like a kid. I'm seventeen, mom. You know you could have thought to ask me how I felt about moving. But no! Instead of bothering to take five minutes out of your day, you just make the decision. You don't even ask, no, you just do." I yelled. I could hear my brother's sighs from waking up. Great. I woke him up, which is going to make my mother angry.
"Violet... honey. You know that's not... How do you feel about us moving, sweetheart?" She asked. A little too late.
"It's too late for that, we're in the process. We're twelve hours in to a thirty seven hour drive! It sucks!" I sighed, finally calming down.
"Well... you know you'll be surrounded by family. I didn't ask you because I thought this was best for you. I worry so much about you, sweetheart." She said soothingly, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"I was doing fine, why would moving me away from my friends be best for me?" I asked, knowing full well I didn't have many caring friends. I just want her to know what I'm feeling. How she betrayed my comfort.
"That place wasn't good for you, Violet! Remember the mirror you broke? How about the hole in your bedroom wall? The scars on your arms, Violet. That place isn't good for you. And it's my job to take you somewhere better. Go out! Meet people! Get a boyfriend, Violet! Show me the teenage rebellion that I'm supposed to worry about you for! Instead of locking yourself in our bathroom to lay in a puddle of your blood! We're moving to Avera because that's where family is. That is where I can have a watchful eye on you every second of every day! You'll love it, Violet. You just have to adjust. You're going to hate me for a while, I know that. But I'm willing to risk it. Violet, I just want you to be happy." She finished her rant, leaving both of us in tears. God, was I really that transparent? Was it so obvious that I was in pain? That I truly hated the outside world beyond that house? How had my mom seen what I thought that I had hidden so well?
"You're right. But who's to say it won't get worse? I don't like our family, I certainly don't like country music, and I'm not saying I have anything against it, but I'm not about to saddle up and ready myself for a rodeo!" I laughed. I spent most of my life laughing at my family for their hillbilly lifestyle. Rodeos, tractor pulls, mud runs, you name it, they did it. And to be honest it disgusted me for the most part. Rodeo primarily. The first memory I had of one was awful, as one of the riders had gotten stabbed through the stomach by a bull's horn.
"I'm not saying it won't get worse, Violet. I'm only saying you have to try! The only way to know it will get worse is if you don't try." She finally said, pulling into a gas station parking lot. Guess we were low on gas.