Page 3 of Poison Aches

My mother abandoned me then.

And now Gramps is gone too.

And it’s all my fault.

Because I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t settle. I couldn’t handle being laughed at that I didn’t have a mother or a father.

Over the years, I tried making excuses for my mother to find a reason for that cold act of neglect.

Maybe she had us when she was too young?

“No, she was twenty-three when she had me and twenty-nine when she had you. That’s old enough, don’t you think?” my brother Samuel answered bluntly.

Okay, then maybe she couldn’t afford to raise us.

“She was at the top of her class at Stanford on a track to med school, while minoring in Business and Finance. She had the smarts to make money and keep us. Not to mention, Gramps and Grammy are not stingy. In fact, they would have helped if she asked, but guess what, Ivy, she never asked because she never cared to.”

Samuel always had answers to everything.

He said I was just naïve and was desperately wanting what didn’t care for me.

He also said if I wasn’t careful, that kind of desperation would one day shatter my heart.

I didn’t believe him, because as we grew up, I watched Samuel’s anger toward our absent parents turn into cold impassiveness.

Meanwhile, I grew even more restless and making up plans to go find my parents.

If she wasn’t dead, then why didn’t she ever call?

Why did she leave us?

Why did Gramps and Grammy never talk about her?

Samuel had already detached himself completely and never cared.

Maybe that’s why people liked Samuel.

He was amiable, could easily go along with the flow, and he’s always the life of the party.

At school he’s popular.

The golden boy.

Athletic.

A troublemaker that everyone wants to be friends with.

He’s also friends with the most exclusive group of the wealthiest children in Westbrook Blues.

Then there’s me.

A loner.

Pathetic.

Weird.

Chronically sad and always stuck in my head.

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