Bitch.

I'm pretty sure I fit the description. I am possibly the most evil daughter for any set of parents to contend with. Why is it that every so often, when things are just too simple and good, that I feel the burning need to screw things up? To cause as much grief that is possible for my mother so that I can mask my own self-destructive insecurity.

It happens every time. I called her as I knew she was getting off work knowing I sounded ill. I said I was "just letting her know" that I would be taking the bus home soon to drop off the movie that was due today. Do you see this? How even when things are nice and well that I manipulate the people I care about without any qualms? Of course, just like I knew she would, she offered to drive over to UW instead to come get me. I didn't correct her, that I wouldn't be coming home, figuring that I could tell her when she arrived.

She called me an hour later saying she in the parking lot. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was pissed. Why couldn't she come to the door so her obviously sick daughter didn't have to go out in the 30 degree weather? And then the snowball just kept rolling, building up. Everyone else's parents have come to campus at least once to spend time with them. They took them around The Ave. Gave them a tour of campus. Ate in the dining hall. But mine? Not once had they ever expressed an interest. They never call just to check up or talk. It's always me keeping the contact alive.

And so I grabbed the movie and slowly made my way to the car. I still wanted to talk to her about doing a study abroad program in Cambodia for seven weeks this summer and figured I would get over my previous anger if we talked. So I opened the door and she looked at me. Without a word. Then when back to shuffling something around in the car, God knows what. And my anger resurfaced just like that. Like whenever I come home or see her she never greets me. Actually, if I didn't do any of the talking with my parents there wouldn't be anything said between us. After a couple seconds of me standing there I set the movie on the seat, shut the door, and walked back to the dorms without a word. From behind me, I could tell that the car hadn't moved. That she was still waiting in the parking lot. If it were a perfect world, she would've called after her selfish and deranged daughter. I knew it would never happen. I secretly hoped my phone would start vibrating with her confused call as I reached my room.

It did. A few minutes into being settled back into my bed, trying not to be upset, she called. "Are you coming back?" She said.

"No."

"Oh," She pauses here. "So I just drove here to pick up the movie?"

"Yes."

"You could have told me that."

"I thought you knew."

"You could have said something," She says in this small voice that only makes me angrier. How dare she make me feel guilty? "I could have been waiting out here for hours."

Silence.

Then she hangs up.

Trying to keep this interlude off my mind is impossible. All I feel is emptiness. I should feel satisfaction. I'm the one who won this battle.

Right?