Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“Mara!” Another deep sob/choke. She was raising her voice. “Where are you going?”
I paused, once. “Bathroom, Mom.”
“Oh.” Another sob as tears lingered on her cheeks. “Okay.” She settled back down on the couch, reached for a pillow and held it over her stomach. Her head went down. Her shoulders slumped. She looked defeated. “I’ll stay here. I’ll wait for you. Take your time, sweetie.”
As soon as I was inside, I locked the door, hit the fan. I slumped down to the floor.
Everything was a tsunami inside of me.
I needed her gone. Now. I could not handle her.
She would destroy everything.
I needed help.
Who could I call?
My roommates? They’d see a daughter kicking her mother out of her apartment, a mother that drove three hours to see her daughter. I’m sure she told them some amazing and fun story so of course it made sense for them to unlock the door for her.
No. I couldn’t involve them.
Who?
My dad was three hours away. Three hours was doable, but I wanted her gone now. Immediately.
I had no clue–my phone started ringing.
Cruz calling.
I answered, choking out, strangled, “Hey.”
He was silent for a second. “What’s wrong?”
“What?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I–” I stopped and closed my eyes. What could I do here? What should I do? Cruz never judged. He wasn’t like that. Maybe that’s why I heard myself saying, “I need help.”
“You’re at your place?”
“Mara, honey?”
My insides withered because she’d come to the door. I was taking too long.
I was sure Cruz could hear her, but I said, “Yes.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m close by.”
He ended the call, but I held the phone in my hand for a long time after.
She was my mother. She had been my person for so long. She was the best thing in the world. I was angry at everyone she was mad at. I helped plot against anyone who was trying to hurt her, and that list was long. Never ending. Everyone was talking about her. Everyone didn’t like her. Everyone only wanted to use her.
But not me. Not her daughter. Her little cuddle bug.
Her and me. The two of us against the world.
She really didn’t see me when she hit me with the car that one time. She was the one crying about it. It was traumatic to her, what she almost did to her little angel girl. And the time she raised a bat to me, slamming it down on my hand, but oh no. She didn’t see my hand there, though I knew she looked right at it. It was another night in the ER where half the nursing staff were consoling her. I sat on the table, got my hand taken care of, while she was almost choking on her own crying in the hallway. And after, if she hadn’t gotten the looks she wanted from the doctor, or the front desk person, then they hated her. They had a personal vendetta against her. Such evil people. No empathy in them.
I believed it all, and the list went on and on and on until I was eleven.
Knock. One brief, but hard knock.
I tensed, listening, not ready to go back out.
I heard voices. A male one. My mom’s, loud and excited.
Then, murmuring and I heard, “Excuse me?”
Cruz said something to her.
I needed to go out there. I needed to help him.
He didn’t even know the situation. I really needed to go out there.
There was more murmuring. His was low, calm. Hers–I was expecting it to be angry. That’s how she was when someone tried to enforce boundaries. Boundaries meant her not getting what she wanted.
I had to go.
I forced myself up, opening the door, stepping out.
“Mara!” Her mouth was tight. The beginning stages of a full-blown meltdown was going to ensue soon. “You didn’t tell me that this house needs to be evacuated.”
I opened my mouth, flicked my eyes to Cruz, who was nodding still so calmly.
He said, “Yep. I just talked to Miles downstairs. Something wrong with the ventilation and everyone’s leaving for the night.” He nodded to a bag. “Is this your bag, ma’am?”
“Ma’am.” Her tone was curt.
He ignored that, picking up her bag and put his arm through the strap. His eyes went to me, giving me a little appraisal before giving me a nod. “You got your stuff ready? I was just telling your mom that you’re spending the night at my place, but we’re at full capacity so I won’t be able to get a bed for her. Last minute and all.”
He was saving me. He was giving me time.
I jerked my head in a nod. “Right. Mom, you need to go. I have a full week ahead of me, and I can’t slip in any of my classes.”
“But–”
“You drove here?” I was praying, Please God, she drove here. Not that she got a ride from someone.