“Maya, my answer is no.”
“Why?” Maya cried. “I hate you. I hate you. You suck, you suck you suck! You’re mean. You hate me. You just want to make me miserable.”
She stormed away from the kitchen, leaving food beverage untouched and her siblings shocked. Sabine exchanged a quick glance with her husband who looked as sorrowful as she felt.
“Why is Maya upset Mom?” Jenna asked. “Do you hate her?”
Sabine schooled her features and smiled to her little one.
“Oh no honey, of course I don’t. But Maya is tired. And she’s upset because she can’t get what she wants.”
“You know Jenna, like when you got upset because you couldn’t have chocolate last Tuesday.” Tim volunteered gently.
Sabine might yet be crushed: it wasn’t fair that her 12-year-old son should have to explain his sister’s emotional outbursts. Nathan didn’t speak but she knew her husband well enough that it tore him apart as well.
They were reaching the borders of insanity; both of them tired from their jobs and taking care of three kids. But they’d wanted this family. They just hadn’t expected the setbacks.
“I’ll go see her.” Nate said. She nodded.
She worried for her daughter though: some days happy, others not. Some days Maya was all loving and cuddly; others aggressive and verbally abusive. She’d put it down to her daughter going through puberty, the hormones, but it had to be something else. Still she didn’t want Maya to think her mother believed she was crazy. She just had no idea how to help her child and it hurt deeply. And the only thing she knew how to do was to show Maya that she loved her; that putting some boundaries was part of that love.
As he went to see his daughter, Nathan knew there wasn’t much he could do. Maya’s mood was at best unpredictable these days.
“Hey honey.” He called.
“Go away,” she answered from inside her room.
Still he entered, crossing the border into his 17-year-old daughter’s space. He rarely did these days. She was fiercely secretive about what she did in her room; she didn’t even let her mother clean it anymore. She did it herself, gathered her clothes and put them in the dirty laundry. More often than not, she did her own laundry just so Sabine didn’t know what clothes she bought. She was getting a bit paranoid. And Nate was worried.
“Maya…” She was sobbing into her pillows. He sat on the bed. She flinched from his touch. “Talk to me baby girl.”
She was his eldest; she was born at a time when he was back in school. He’d spent more time with her than Jenna or Tim. They’d been close up until last year. Then things shifted. But she was still his baby girl.
Maya sat and leaned into him crying.
“I’m so sorry. So sorry. I love you, I love Mom. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One minute I laugh, the next I cry. You won’t cut me off, will you?”
“Of course not baby.”
He kissed her brow. He’d spoken with a few colleagues: he had an inkling of what was happening.
“I wanna go on Saturday though. Can I go? Everyone at school is going… Please, please, please.”
“Maya,” he sighed.
“If you say yes Mom will change her mind.”
“No honey.” She pushed him away, anger in her eyes.
“Go away, go away. GO AWAY!”
She screamed. He left. He had to organize a visit with Dr. Philips. Borderline personality disorder wasn’t an easy diagnosis; but if this was what Maya suffered from, she needed help. They couldn’t wait. He had to tell Sabine. They’d crossed the border into a whole new world of troubles, but it’d be worse if Maya wasn’t treated. And their child needed their help, their love more now than ever before.
In response to the Daily Post writing prompt Border