by DK Andrews
of me now. I don’t wear short-sleeved shirts or pretty dresses that might show my bare arms. I don’t want anyone to see the scars that cover my arms and know about the abuse I experience on a daily basis.
“You deserve this, “she mumbles.
I remain quiet. All I want is for her to get out of my way.
“I know I do. I’m sorry,” I say.
“Are you gonna tell me where ya been?” Gloria presses for an answer.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been out. It’s my birthday.”
I force myself to concentrate on the cigarette lying on the floor—it’s not completely out. I imagine what I would do if it started a fire—I would grab Micah and run away, leaving Gloria to burn in her filth and anger.
“It’s your birthday, huh?” Gloria sneers.
“Yes,” I say, the tears starting to form in my eyes.
I have to stay strong; I can’t show her any weakness.
“Who cares? You…”—Gloria burps loudly—“forgot to pick up Micah from school. So your elderly, sick ma,” she says, pointing a finger at herself, “had to walk so far to pick him up! Do you realize how hard that is for me?”
She staggers.
An old message to myself flashes into my mind, “Yes Mother, I know my whole being is inconvenient for you!” but I manage only to reluctantly say,
“Yes, I know. I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again,” while keeping my eyes fixed on the floor and picturing the fire spreading through the house.
“Your birthday, huh?” Gloria says. “And how old are you? Drinking age yet?”
She laughs. She’s got the evilest laugh you will ever hear, and I hate hearing it. Her dry, wheezy laugh emphasizes the emptiness of my whole reality. I’m scared to death to look up.
“I’m eighteen.”
I want this conversation to be over. I want to hold Micah and let him know how much I missed him and how his life is going to change forever very soon.
“Eighteen? It’s time for you to get a job,” she grumbles angrily. “Actually—” She pauses. Throws up in her mouth and casually wipes vomit from her lips with the back of her hand. “You know now that you are eighteen you’d better start paying rent. I’m sick and tired of providing for you and your little brother.”
Providing for us? She must be joking. All she’s done is drink and collect government checks!
“I know,” I say, trying to play along with her and tell her what she wants to hear. “I’m trying to find a job, and I promise I will pay you at the end of the month.”
“Good! You should!”
She slowly turns around and shuffles back into the living room, stumbling over a smelly garbage bag, causing it to spill its contents of empty beer bottles and cigarettes butts across the floor.
I glance at her, and it terrifies me. How is it a mother can hate her children so much? Has she ever been happy? Seeing this woman—who looks twice her age, wearing an old oversized black sweater with puke stains all over it and dirty brown sweatpants that haven’t been washed in ages—only confirms that I’m making the right decision.
Gloria drops her heavy body onto the couch—like a piece of rotten meat hitting a butcher’s slab—and drinks a whole bottle of beer in one go.
I quickly grab my bag off the floor and run towards the bedroom.
Opening the door, I see Micah at the little desk in the corner doing his homework. I come up behind him and lock him in my arms.
God, I love him!
“Lina! You’re home!” Micah claps his hands. He jumps up from the chair and gives me the biggest hug. I start to cry—I don’t want to let go of him. We have such limited time together left. Maybe it’s a good thing that the Conversion takes 30 days, it will give me more time with my precious Micah.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick you up from school today, “I say, wiping the tears from my face.
“Lina, please don’t let her near me,” Micah begs.
“I won’t. I will be there tomorrow,” I say, trying to figure out what time my preparation procedure will be over. “Can I ask you to do me a favor, though?”
“What is it?” Micah asks.
“Do you remember you were telling me about your school friend Bennett?”
“Yes, he’s my only friend,” Micah admits sadly. “I hate that school! It’s the worst school ever! I don’t want to go there anymore! Why do we have to live here with her?” Micah yells in despair.
I need to give him hope and above all calm him down.
“I swear that very soon you won’t have to go to that school anymore. You will be back with your grandparents, I promise!” I touch his beautiful, soft curly hair. His beautiful green eyes, full of hopelessness and gloom, just like mine, break my heart.
“You promise?” he asks, seeking reassurance.
“I promise,” I say, kissing him fondly on the cheek. “At the end of the month, you will be back with them.”
I love Micah’s grandparents—I wish I could have known my own. Gloria had children with two different men. As far as I know, she never actually figured out who my biological father was. There were too many men sniffing around her during the time she became pregnant with me. Micah’s dad disappeared as soon as he was born. Gloria gave Micah her last name. When he was a year old, his grandparents on his dad’s side took on the responsibility of raising him and me, since Gloria was nowhere to be found. She was probably drinking under a bridge somewhere. We had had the greatest year with them until Gloria decided to storm back into our lives and ruin everything. She needed us to live with her again in order to get government assistance checks as a single parent. On top of it, Micah’s grandparents couldn’t keep supporting us, raising two kids took a huge toll on their finances. They had to give us up as they literally had no means to feed us. I can’t wait until my LifeTrans money comes through and will go to help Micah and his grandparents.
“I love you, Micah,” I say with a sigh. “I promise things will be wonderful for you soon.”
I pause, remembering what I need him to do.
“About Bennett,” I say, “could you please ask Bennett if you can stay at his place after school tomorrow for an hour or so?” I’m terrified of not making it to his school the next day in time to pick him up, and then my “elderly” mother would be called and have to pick him up.
“OK, I will ask him tomorrow. By the way, happy birthday!” he says lovingly, giving me a smile. “I’ve made something for you.” From his desk, he grabs a little handmade card with a big red heart painted on it. He had written my name using white crayons inside the heart, and underneath it, the message, “Happy birthday to the best sister on the planet.”
My heart melts, and although I try very hard to keep from crying, tears are streaming down my cheeks in minutes
“Thank you, darling! This is so wonderful,” I sob. I take the card and hold it against my heart. I don’t want to disappoint Micah. I’m sure he will be devastated to know that I will be gone forever soon, but eventually, he will forgive me—he has to. Once he is older, he will know that I left him in order to give him a better life and a future worth living.
I reach into my backpack for my diary and put the card inside it. The diary has nothing written in it, but it holds “my heart”—the card from Micah, his baby picture and the appointment card from the Ultima Center.
“Text me tomorrow to let me know about Bennett,” I say, pulling myself together.
“I will,” he answers absently, sitting back down to bury himself in his homework once again.
In the next couple of hours, I help Micah with his math project and later tuck him into bed. I hold him in my arms and listen to his breathing as he falls into a deep sleep
There is one last thing I need to do before sleeping myself- I need to make sure Gloria has put out all of her cigarettes. She is always falling asleep with them still burning between her fingers, on the edge of the armchair or in the ashtray
I tiptoe into the living room. The TV is
still on, of course, and Gloria is passed out on the couch. There are no lit cigarettes lying around. I leave Gloria face-down on the couch lying in her own dirt.
Thank God, I won’t ever have to see her face again in just 30 short days.
SESSION 1
Waking up this morning, it takes me a few minutes to get my thoughts together. I’m anxious—I need to get used to the idea that I have only 30 days to live. I wish the Conversion would only take a day, that way I wouldn’t have time for any doubts or to second guess myself
Micah is still sleeping. I watch him, noticing the slightest movement, and I try to memorize every feature of his beautiful face. I’m happy just being near him. Gloria never got furniture for our bedroom, so when Micah and I found a bed on the side of the road, we dragged it home for our own. It is a good one, but unfortunately, it’s only a single. Thankfully, both Micah and I are tiny. We fit perfectly together on the bed. Still, he is going to grow up soon, and this bed will be too small for him. I cannot wait for him to have all the essential things of life and more.
At the moment we can’t even take a shower as we don’t have any water. Gloria didn’t bother to pay water bill last month. She chose to spend all the money on booze and cigarettes instead. I grab the slightly crumpled clothes that I wore yesterday—black tank top, gray hoodie, and my only pair of jeans—from the chair we have set up next to our bed. We have two chairs in our bedroom that act as our closets.
I sneak into the kitchen to make Micah a quick breakfast and lunch to go. We still have a few