Skins Collide

Nova

Sometimes I have very dark thoughts about my mother—thoughts no sane daughter should ever have.

Sometimes, I’m not always sane. I don't consider myself sane anymore, especially after what happened last night.

“Nova, you’re being ridiculous,” Mom says through the speaker on my phone. I glare at it in response, refusing to argue with her. When I have nothing to say, she sighs loudly. I wrinkle my nose. It blows my mind that this woman always called me dramatic yet can’t see her own flair for the dramatics.

“Just because you left for school doesn't mean you can never come back home and visit. And I don't like that house you live in."

“And just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean I can’t live in it,” I retort dryly.

My mother is a bitch. Plain and simple. She’s always had a chip on her shoulder, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

“You’ll be living six hours from us! That will be incredibly inconvenient for you to come visit us, won’t it?”

Oh, how will I ever s