Icey WaterMature

Warm water ran down my bare back, and I seriously thought I was in Heaven for a moment. But of course, good things rarely last for me.

My mom pounded on the bathroom door, yelling "If your not out and dressed in ten minutes, I'm shutting the water off!"

I rolled my eyes and stood there for just two seconds longer. But a scream escaped my mouth before I knew what had happened. A second later, when my senses kicked in, the water was as cold as ice, and being completely without any form of clothing for warmth, it was ten times worse.

I cursed in my head and reached over to the faucet as fast as I could to turn the water off. Believe me, I was incredibly fast.

Reaching up to grab the light yellow towel and wrap it around me to dry off and warm up, I stomped out of the tub and flung the door open.


"What?" she asked, appearing from the kitchen like nothing had happened.

"You said ten minutes, not a full three seconds," I exclaimed, madder than a hornet.

"Ten minutes is mom's code for now," she said calmly.

"Well forgive me for not being a mother and understanding 'mom's code'. I was under the impression that you actually meant ten minutes." I said, trying to mimick her tone, and failing. Anger seeped into my voice despite my attempt at controlling it.

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, young lady."

"I don't appreciate the freezing water. Besides, I was almost done. God!" Without giving her a chance to tell me I was grounded, which is never anything new, I went back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

I turned the volume up on my iPod just so I couldn't hear my mom saying not to slam the doors, and continued to get around.

When I was finally dressed, in a light pink tank top with rhinestones around the neck and black jeans, I went over to the little cabinet things on the other side of the shower and fished out my make-up bag.

I turned my volume down a little bit because I was starting to get a minor head ache.

After blow drying my hair almost completely dry, I studied myself in the mirror.

I had round cheeks, long, arm-pit length brown hair, and hazel-green eyes. I guess you could consider me pretty, on a good day. But I hardly ever have good days. Not with my mom around, anyway.

Every one tells me I'm incredibly pretty, about every single day. But I think I'm so angry at my mom all the time, that the anger clouds my vision and doesn't let me see properly. In other words, my beauty was a matter of opinion, and my opinion was not a positive one.

In just a few minutes, I was completely ready for whatever hellish activity my mom had planned for today.

Usually, she works on the weekends; but, much to my disappointment, she had this weekend off. I don't know why she took the time off. It's not like there's anything special this weekend. There's never anything special on mom's weekends.

"You're wearing that on our walk?" she asked with disapproval clear in her voice.

"Yes, and what walk?" I said, wondering why I couldn't just stay home. I'd be less grouchy if I could just stay home and read, or maybe write...

"The walk we're taking right now. Well, I guess you'll just have to wear a hoodie and your coat. Come on," she said, grabbing her car keys and her purse.

Quickly, I ran back into the bathroom to grab my iPod and head phones so I wouldn't have to listen to her.

Just a few minutes later, I was sitting in the back seat of our baby blue, rusting Toyota Corolla that was probably as old as I was. I shuddered to think that in just a few years, I would have to be seen driving in this piece of junk.

My music and the semi broken muffler did an awesome job of blocking out my mom's voice. I couldn't hear her even though she was shouting to be heard.

Every few seconds, I would shout, "yep," or "mhm" so she could think I was listening to her ramble on and on.

She turned into the boat lift drive and drove all the way back to the end of the drive way towards the trails that not even the presence of mom could mar my pleasure of being here.

If only I was allowed to come here by myself at least once or twice a month, it would be even better.

With my excitement controlling my every move, I jumped out of the car before we'd come to a complete stop, and my mom yelled at me for doing that. But I didn't care.

With a roll of my eyes and some not too nice thoughts, I waited for my mom to get out of the car and stash her purse in the trunk.

I started walking towards my favorite trail, a good twenty paces ahead of my mom.

Slushy snow still covered the ground in scattered patches, and puddles that could have been lakes filled every pot hole in the drive. I avoided these minor obstacles though, loving the sound of the gravel on the trail crunch under my feet.

A good share of the trees were still bare, but there was some vegetation to be seen. I took a left and came to my second favorite spot on the trails.

There was a very old tree, and the trail thinned and stayed on the left side, and there was a small drop off. But a just-as-old brown fence with chicken wire lined the edge of the path.

On the other side of the trail, a ditch that wasn't like a gross ditch on the side of some country  road ran between this part of the path and a few others on the other side. Basically, it was like a steep hill that dipped and came back up a little bit to form this path.

My mom and I walked for a while, and eventually, my anger at my mom subdued, and I suggested going to the little coffee shop down town for some breakfast.

The End

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