This story is dedicated to the writing prompt I garnered from reading this note by :
I wore the key to my mother’s sanity around my neck like a dangling talisman of torture.
She had gifted it to me on my 10th birthday.
I remember wondering about the expression on her face as she handed the wrapped box to me; a not so subtle mix of guilt and excitement.
Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted anything from her after the fight we had a week prior — a three hour long volleyball match of spiking insults stemming from grievances she had about what I’d written in my diary.
Another gift I had been given a year prior that she promised not to read.
That one had been hidden in my closet, duct taped inside the oversized ugly Pepto-Bismol pink sweater I was forbidden to throw out.
Also a gift from Mommy Dearest, who refused to accept my disdain and disgust for the colour pink.
I was a naive 9 year old girl when I believed my mother wouldn’t read my most private of thoughts. I was a foolish 10 year old pre-teen when I thought it would be different with a lock.
Shame on me.
I remember feeling hopeful when I skeptically peeled the shiny pink wrapping paper and opened the box to reveal two identical keys.
I thought it meant I was finally getting the lock on my bedroom door that I’d been asking for all year. My mother watched me with a smirk as I squealed and giggled with glee at the prospect of privacy.
“Mother, isn’t this a little small for a door lock?” I queried in confusion.
A flash of fury flitted across her face; visibly frustrated at my insistence of calling her Mother and not Mom. At least I didn’t call her what I referred to her in my diary.
“Whatever happened to calling me Mom or Mommy? Like I’m the worst person in the world? Anyhoo, it’s your birthday! I got you something better than some silly door lock. Open the green box!” She nudged a slightly bigger box towards me with a Cheshire grin.
My father came in from the kitchen and plopped heavily into the suede sofa covered in plastic. Mother covered the furniture for every occasion that required frosting or frivolity.
“Is it cake time yet?” He chuckled while grabbing the tv remote.
“No, we’re waiting on Miss Tatiana to finish opening her gifts. Don’t you dare turn that tv on right now!” Mother snatched the remote from his loose grip.
He sighed, shifting noisily in his shrink wrapped seat.
“Ok, Tee. Let’s see what ya got!” His enthusiasm was lacklustre.
I ripped open the box and stared at the green leather diary sitting innocently in the box.
Mother’s exuberant voice burst through the silence: “Look, it’s GREEN. Your favourite colour… for whatever reason. But wait! It’s alsoooooo got a LOCK! So this time I can’t and won’t read anything you write in there about me. Even though I am pretty hurt by what you said on July 16th…”
“Not now, Taylor. Let the girl be happy on her birthday,” Dad interrupted. He used his toes to wrangle the out of reach remote into his hands like a chimp. Before my mother could stop him, he had the game on.
I couldn’t tell you which one; I was locked into the beauty of the book.
“You promise you won’t read it?” I choked the words out.
Mother gestured at the pink box: “How could I? You’ve got the keys to get in!”
She sounded so reassuring, I almost forgot who she was.
“Thanks, Mommy!”
I jumped up and into her arms with grateful tears in my eyes. It was the first time I’d hugged her in months.
“Thank your father too. It’s from both of us.” She cooed, patting my behind playfully.
Still wrapped in her arms, I glanced over at him yelling at the screen on the crunchy love seat.
“Thanks, Dad.” I whispered.
“Roy! Your daughter is talking to you!” Mother screeched. He was ruining her moment just as much as he was ruining mine.
“Aw yeah, kiddo! You’re welcome. Just make sure you hide dem keys really good. You know your mother likes a good challenge.” He tore his gaze away from the tv long enough to meet my eyes with a wink and a sobering nod.
We all decided to laugh in that moment, but like the television: the game was on.
The next two weeks after I got my new diary, I was tentative to write anything too deep, even though I had a lot going on, both at school and at home.
I especially didn’t want my mother to find out about my latest crush, Nikki; I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be her or be with her. I was very confused.
So I created innovative hiding spaces throughout the house for my keys and kept my diary entries brief and coded.
My mother found them every time but expertly put them back in the impossible booby trapped positions in attempts to dupe me. Of course, being her child, I booby trapped the booby traps and grew tired of the game by the end of the second week. There was no where else I could hide those damn keys and I didn’t want to waste the beautiful space of my glorious diary with drivel.
It was Nikki who gifted me the brilliant idea for the ultimate hiding place. She even wrapped it up in a box with a bow.
“Sorry, I was late with your bday present, Tee. I ordered it from Amazon forever ago but it was delayed,” she handed it to me sheepishly on the Friday of that second week.
“You didn’t have to get me anything! Your friendship is literally the best gift,” I shakily responded, staring watery-eyed into her beautiful brown eyes.
“Stop your noise. I love you.” She kissed me on my cheek. Everything in me pulsed so violently and vibrantly.
I dropped the box. It snapped me back into reality.
We both laughed as I picked the box back up and dramatically tore open the package. It was a long, thin, plain silver necklace.
She took it out, unclasped it, and leaned in so close it felt like her aura was washing over me. She smelled like Hubba Bubba, coconut oil, shea butter, and strawberries.
I breathed her in deeply as she clasped the necklace around me and barely heard her whisper above my pounding heartbeat: “Now you can carry the keys wherever you go.”
The necklace hung down to my ribcage and was thin enough to go through the impossibly tiny holes of the diary lock keys.
I grabbed Nikki into a bear hug. We jumped and squealed and cackled outside the school building until we heard the familiar sound of my mother’s car horn.
She still insisted on picking me up from school even though I lived only a few blocks away.
Nikki and I separated like shrapnel. My mother eyed us both suspiciously from the car. She stopped liking Nikki after reading about how I wished my mother was more like hers, and how I was happy to know Nikki would take me in if I ever got the courage to run away.
“Let’s go, Tatiana! You’ve got bible study to go to!” Mother barked impatiently.
“Hi, Mrs. Brathwaite! I love your new hairdo!” Nikki waved sweetly to my mother.
Mother fought every demon in her body to not instinctively roll her eyes and cuss the little girl out instead of forcing the tight smile and wave back that she did.
I don’t know where I found the nerve, but I planted a quick peck on Nikki’s cheek — very close to her lips — and thanked her again for the gift.
Both her and my mother were shooketh.
Mother aggressively beeped the horn again while bellowing, “GET IN THE CAR NEEOW!”
I sprinted to the SUV and dove into the back seat behind my mother. She insisted I sit there always so she could keep an eye on me.
“What kind of abomination did I just witness, Tatiana? Did you just kiss that girl on her mouth?!” Mother screeched in the same tone as the wheels that pealed off into the street.
I couldn’t help but laugh at her incredulity. I was also a little high off the adrenaline of conspiring and kissing my kinda crush.
My mother was nonplussed and ready to fuss.
“Noooo, Muh-therrrr! I kissed her on the cheek to say thank you for my birthday gift. I just did it really quick cuz you were rushing me to get in the car.” I was trying to act nonchalant but my heart was pounding all things passionate.
I was afraid if my mother squinted her eyes any tighter, she’d crash the car from driving blind.
“What gift?” Her voice lowered ten decibels but the intensity somehow increased.
I raised the necklace for her to see through the rearview mirror. Her face relaxed.
“Oh, that’s pretty. A little long, don’t you think? I can take it to my jeweller to shorten and make a bracelet with what’s left. I have a nice crucifix pendant we can add to it.” She prattled on.
“No, it’s supposed to be this long. Like, you can double it to change up the style or just wear it loose under your shirt, or loop it a bunch of times to be a bracelet. I like it plain like this. It’s so cool, right, Mom?” It felt like the words tumbled out hot from swirling in my mouth like a dryer. I hoped she’d just think it was my enthusiasm from the gift. I threw the “Mom” in there to butter her up.
She took the bait with a smile.
“Yes, Tee. Very cool. When we get home, you’ll have about an hour to eat dinner and write in your diary before we head out to church. It might go later today so it’ll be bathe and straight to bed when we get home, you hear?”
I nodded vigorously. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Seems like you have plenty to write about in your diary today,” she smirked.
I met her challenging gaze with newfound bravado: “Yes, ma’am.”
I watched my mother slip deeper into her maddening mental hell for a month after I got that necklace.
Every morning, I’d leave the locked diary in the middle of my bed, taunting her to find the keys to read my now explicitly essayed thoughts.
I’d tape the little keys to my skin so they wouldn’t tinkle as I tittered about in the morning before school. Once my mother drove away from dropping me off, I’d lift my shirt and boisterously rip them free as my friends cheered at my victory.
The music of their jingle jangling as I’d run or dance or skipped along through the day became a signature of my presence amongst my peers.
It became a new trend, even with the girls in the older grades. Popular girls bartered with Nikki and I to tell them where to get the super long necklaces in exchange for social invites. Nikki was already popular with the older grades but now my innocent church girl persona was getting an upgrade.
I wasn’t the only one shocked to see my popularity blossom. My mother witnessed the growing throngs of preteens surrounding me and Nikki when she’d come to pick me up.
Every day, Mother would arrive more visibly pissed off than the day before because she hadn’t found the keys to open my diary.
“You think you’re soooo smart, don’t you?” She’d say through gritted teeth as I’d enter the car. I’d pretend I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“I did learn a lot today at school, so I guess you could say that. I can’t wait to go home and write in my diary about today. Thanks again, Mom!” I’d say sweetly.
Then we’d drive home in silence as she’d concoct an illogical reason why I’d be grounded from doing something I loved as a punishment. I wouldn’t let it phase me as long as I knew I had my diary under lock and key.
Until that one morning I got too cocky and forgot to tape the keys to my skin.
I was running late for school after attempting a new hairstyle I wanted to impress Nikki with but failed miserably. Mother was on her last warning growl before she was ready to rip me a new one so I hurried down the stairs without finishing my regular morning routine.
The tinkle of the keys as it bounced off of me with every step seemingly stopped time for all of us.
My father was mid sip from his coffee mug in the kitchen corridor. His eyes narrowed inquisitively at the sound.
My mother’s eyes widened in that recognizable aha! moment.
I froze on the last step.
“Let me see your necklace, Tatiana.” Mother ordered.
Dad took a step forward toward us with pleading eyes: “Taylor, leave the girl. She’s already late for school…”
Mother brushed him off with a wave of her hand and extended it towards me for the necklace.
I tearfully shook my head in defiance.
She smiled. I was playing right into her claws. Her voice became eerily calm.
“Tatiana Simone Brathwaite: it was not a question or suggestion; it was an order. Give….me…the…necklace. Neeeeow.” Mother stuck her hand out closer to my face.
Tears slid silently down my sullen face as I slipped the silver chain off my frame.
Her eyes lit up like a Rasta.
Triumph permeated her bones as she eyed the dangling keys, the talisman of her torture, swing hypnotically like a pendulum between her and I.
“So THIS is where you’ve been hiding them,” she whispered to herself like a Disney villain.
I crumbled at her feet, grabbing hold of her legs as I begged: “You promised you wouldn’t read it this time. You promised!” I began to sob uncontrollably.
“Oh come now! I’m not going to read it! What kind of person do you think I am? No no, my sweet child. I’m just making sure you aren’t going to lose the keys at school. Go put them in your room and let’s get going. We’re late,” she purred as she lovingly fussed with my hair.
“But I wanna wear my necklace!” I sobbed again. I tried to get up from the ground but the defeat left me weak. Mother helped me up and dried my tears with her palms. Her eyes softened for a moment at my despair.
“Of course, you can wear your necklace. Just leave the keys in your room so they’re safe, and we’ll go. Splash some water on your face as well so people don’t think I beat you before we left,” she laughed.
I watched my father take a nervous swig of coffee from his mug as she leaned in close to put the necklace back on me. She smelled like peppermint, Chanel No.5, coco butter, and buttered toast. She kissed me on the cheek with a sinister smile.
An idea popped in my mind. I immediately pulled away and ran upstairs with the keys.
“Yes, hurry, and no more crying! You’ve got 5 minutes!” She yelled after me.
I pretended to rummage in my room maniacally for three minutes as I tried to calm the fluttering in my tummy.
I walked calmly to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. I cupped some cool water a few times to rinse the keys and stared into the mirror.
Just do it. It’s the only way.
I placed the keys in my mouth, closed my eyes and drank them down with some more handfuls of water.
I opened my eyes to face myself in the mirror again. The mischievous smile that crept surreptitiously spooked me a bit with how much it made me look like my Mother.
Her voice pierced through my darkening thoughts: “Okayyyy, let’s gooooooo!”
I could tell by her tone she thought she won. I kept my composure as I ambled down the stares in mock despondency.
“Can I grab a mango before I go?” I asked sadly.
“Of course you can, my sweet girl.” Mother trilled triumphantly.
I sat in the car in silence, mindlessly stroking my mango while Mother danced in her seat all the way to my school.
As I got out, she warned sweetly, “Careful not to eat too much of that mango, Tee. You know how much it makes you poop!”
The smile returned to my face.
“Yes, ma’am.”
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Did this story resonate with you?
Was there a time when your private writings were used against you?
Did you anticipate what Tatiana was going to do in the end to keep her mother from getting those keys?
Man, I can’t count the number of times I wanted to choke Mother out while reading this! So good!!!
Yo this was a rollercoaster of emotions. I felt like i was there throughout the whole story and felt each character so vividly.