Gourdbrook
My mother is a powerhouse, but she somehow ends up with me, a coward with claustrophobia.
"What claustrophobia? You're just being dramatic!"
In order to help me "desensitize," she builds a pitch-black, soundproof room in the house.
In elementary school, I scream and cry in terror the first time she locks me inside, and she punishes me by not letting me eat for three days.
In middle school, I try harder to hold it together and only let out a few quiet whimpers, but she makes me kneel in the snow for a full day and night.
I tough it out all the way through senior year, telling myself that getting into college and leaving home will fix everything.
But on the day of my acceptance party, she decides to show off the results of her desensitization in front of all the guests and locks me straight into the dark room.
"Mom!" I drop to my knees, crying and begging as my dignity gets shredded to pieces.
"My claustrophobia is gone, I swear. I'm begging you, please don't lock me in there."
The look in her eyes is almost unhinged. "No! If you don't go in, you'll never go to college."
But eventually, I really am cured.
So Mom, why can't you smile anymore?