I no longer care

Feelings. I don't even know what those are anymore. Remember when you were five years old and would trip on a rock. Then you'd cry your way to your mom. With tears pouring down your face, you would go hug your mom's leg and she would ensure that you were okay. That same loving mother that would rock you until you fell asleep or carry from the car to your room after a long road trip, no longer exists as well as my feelings.

My mom was once like every other mom. She would spoil me with toys and buy me so many cute dresses. But then I got older and changed. I wasn't acing all my classes unlike in fifth grade where I would get 100s on every multiplication worksheet. I fell in love with different types of styles unlike when I was seven and just put on the first shirt in my dresser. I was no longer a kid and has just started my teenage years, meaning I had my own ideas and situations to deal with.

My mom started reminding me that I was such and amazing kid and used to be so talented. What about me now? I used to be one of those kids where I loved just staying home and playing with my siblings. I also loved to do math and read books. On top of all of that, I took only like one dance class a week. I was no longer like that. I danced almost 20 hours a week and liked going out with my friends in my free time. I rarely would prioritize school over dance since math was way too difficult and reading books were no longer interesting.

I don't think my mom could except the fact that I was growing up too quickly in the world we are living in right now. And I understood her. She would try to keep me from going out and sign me up for tutoring classes. It was all fine until things were starting to get out of hand. She told me I could only go out once two weeks in the school time and once a week in summer. She would make me do the dishes and clean he whole upstairs. She would always complain to me about how much work she's doing everyday while we were at school. This wasn't normal. Sooner than later, she started yelling at us at least once a week. During the summer time, our phones would be downstairs for almost seven hours a day and my WiFi would be turned off at ten o'clock everyday. She would force me to wake up early to get my younger siblings ready for summer camp. She would make me and me by myself clean the garage, as my older sister had education excuses to get out of things.

The first time this happened I sobbed so hard while we were yelling at each other and my little sister finally called my dad and he broke us apart. I didn't sleep that whole night, thinking of suicide, comparing myself, and how sorry I was to be on this world. But soon I learned that I would continue every week. The only difference is that now, tears just drip down without me even noticing. I would just stare into the distance, not saying a single word.

Now, it's just part of my weekly routine. But at this point, I don't care anymore. After a period of dead silence during the argument, I would just ask, "May I go back to my room?" or "Are you done speaking?" The funniest part is that it doesn't even bother my anymore. It's not like 13-year-old me can feel anything anymore.