07
I woke up in the hospital.
The doctor said I was malnourished, needed
an IV.
Dad was not happy, saying, “Is this how your
mom takes care of you?”
He called Mom over and over, but Mom didn’t
answer.
He was mad, asking, “What has Mom been
doing at home?”
I thought, didn’t dare tell him.
Chapter 2
“Mom always made me dinner, took me to the
park, bought me new clothes. She’s a great
mom, Dad. Stop yelling at her.”
“You’re already lying, at your age? Your
mother’s really screwed you up.”
He told his assistant, “Go back and get Sarah.
I want to see how she’s raising our daughter.”
The assistant started to leave.
Then Dad got a call from Carol.
“Jason, where are you? Get back here. Tiffany
has a fever, and she’s crying for her daddy!”
Dad got all frantic, stopping his assistant,
“Give me the keys. You can take a cab to
Sarah’s place.”
He was about to leave.
“Dad…” I called out.
He paused for a second, saying, “Lily, go
home. Listen to Tony. I’ll see you in a couple
of days.”
He’s lying.
He’s never coming back.
r
The assistant, Tony, drove me home.
He didn’t come inside.
I ran into the house, looking for Mom.
She was still asleep.
She sleeps so much these days.
Mom used to be different.
She hardly ever rested, always cleaning, or
playing with me, or taking care of Dad.
Every night, I begged her to tell me stories.
Dad would always squeeze in, saying, “I’ll tell
her one. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”
<
But I knew, Dad would never hurt me.
I would giggle, crawling into his lap, saying,
“Dad, tell me a story! Dad, tell me a story!”
He’d smile, holding me tight, saying, “What do
you want to hear? I’ll tell you.”
A long, long time ago.
I haven’t heard Dad tell me a story.
Now, Mom doesn’t tell me either.
I hugged Mom’s arm, her skin had a weird
smell, almost like the smell near the garbage
truck.
I kept calling her, crying harder and harder
<
I cried myself to sleep.
When I woke up.
Mom was still asleep.
Mom, you’re really sleepy.
