Hello! My name is Sarah, I am sixteen years old and I hate my mom. Because my mother hates me and thinks that I am a terrible person. But I am positive that I did nothing wrong! Mom believes that I am... a girl with low morals, who lacks social responsibility. In reality, she said something much worse. I am just trying to put it nicely. As if her offensive words were not enough, I also had to comply with my mother’s terrible ideas for how to turn me into a good girl. All this because I defiled my grandpa’s funeral, taking a moment to be alone with my boyfriend. So, my story began with the death of my grandpa. Of course, this was a sad event, but I hardly knew grandpa. When I saw him for the last time I was still a little girl, so I was not overwhelmed by grief. But my mother was. When my grandpa had suffered from a stroke, which became the cause of his death later, my mother left me alone and moved across the country from the north to the south to stay with him. Of course, her concern for grandpa was understandable, but before that, mom did not communicate with him at all. No greeting calls for birthdays, no packages with presents for Christmas, nothing. I don’t think that there was any kind of hostility between my mom and my grandpa, they both had a rather cold indifference toward each other.
…As soon as Mom has learned about his stroke, she rushed to the clinic where grandpa was treated. She found out for herself that he was in terrible shape, and took a plane back to get days off — to be able to take care of grandpa for a long time. But while she settled everything at her work, grandpa died. I had never seen my mother like this: she cried, she literally tore her hair out, and blamed herself for everything. Mom called herself a terrible, inattentive, and ungrateful daughter and got obsessed with the idea that the only way to make amends for grandpa, at least a little, was to organize a wonderful funeral ceremony for him. To do this, she decided by all means, to get all of our relatives together, who were scattered from Hawaii to Connecticut. I became the first victim of my mother’s repentance plan.
I was torn from the usual routine of my life for almost a week! I had to leave school — and I love my school, not because of studies, of course, but because of my friends. I had to give up all my plans for the upcoming days to fly down South together with my mother. I wanted to stay at a hotel because I felt uncomfortable staying in a place where somebody had just recently died, but my mother insisted that we should stay at grandpa's house. And then she began to tell me numerous stories from her childhood and from grandpa’s younger years and show me all kinds of old things... it was very tiring. I do not want to sound selfish, but I did not understand how this was related to me? I was sorry that grandpa had died, I sympathized with my mother, but all I wanted was to have a few days of rest and, of course, to go back home. And when our numerous relatives started to arrive, it only got worse. They all supported this hypocritical mourning atmosphere, although most of them, just like me, had only seen grandpa just a couple of times.
My only salvation was Karl. He was my very distant cousin, he was several years older than me, and before grandpa's funeral, we hardly knew each other. Karl was stuck in exactly the same hopeless situation as I was. We were the only ones who were about the same age in this crowd of relatives, so we quickly found common ground. Every morning Karl and I ran away from the others, chatted about everything in the world, and played games on his tablet together... Of course, if only anybody from the adults would have found us, we would've been scolded for inappropriate behavior, but it was fun. And soon, Karl and I found out that we were going to be stuck in this place for a long time.
The thing was that after my grandpa’s death, my mother accused the clinic where he was treated of negligence. It seemed that my mother was going to sue them, trying to prove that grandpa failed to recover from a stroke because of mistreatment. Of course, there wasn’t a chance that she'd win the case, but the charges triggered some kind of investigation. And now we could not get grandpa’s body for the funeral. Can you imagine? Relatives arrived, everything needed for the ceremony was arranged and paid for. Everything was prepared so that we could all mourn at dear grandpa’s grave but there was nothing to put in it!
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