Page 13 of Then Came You

"I need your fucking money." I spot the liquid of vomit near the tattered sofa, moving toward the kitchen to find something to clean it with. I already know water is all we have, so I make a mental note to stop by the low-cost grocer for some more soap when I get the chance.

She shoves me forward with more strength than you’d expect from her drug-riddled body, almost making me trip. "I don’t have any more money. It all went on bills and rent."

I dampen a ratty tea towel and get on my hands and knees to wipe up the carpet. Mum is still hovering.

Poking my stiff back thanks to the inadequate mattress I slept on, she accuses me of stealing. "You’re fucking lying! You took my money." The tiny hairs on my neck prick up, and my skin moistens with how close she is.

She’s being irrational, which means she’s currently high on something. She’s slurring but yelling at the same time, which does nothing to dull the throbbing in my head.

Does it make me a bad person for hoping she doesn’t wake up one day?

I’m vexed from keeping it together all the time.

To survive all these years, I’ve tried to build up an emotional wall as much as I can when it comes to my mother. It has been working well for the better part of a decade, but there are some days when I completely fail, and today is one of those days.

I peek up to see her decaying rotting teeth snarl at me. "Mum. Stop. I didn’t. What happened to your Centrelink payments? Where’d all the money go?" She lunges at me, pulling my hair, almost ripping the strands from my scalp. Between the lack of sleep and being mentally, emotionally, and physically drained, I feel water pooling in my eyes. She doesn’t deserve a reaction from me, but I’m so fatigued.

I don’t know how much longer I can go on living like this.

No one knows what Tori and I go through. Not Trish. Not my friends. No one. I’m too embarrassed to breathe a word. For so long it was just Tori and me taking care of each other. Then when Tori got sick, it was just me taking care of us.

I thank God Tori is in the hospital at the moment. It’s sick that I even think those words, but I know she’s safer there than here.

"I should have aborted you when I had the chance," she spits, slapping me across the face as I fall on my ass in the soggy spot I just cleaned. I feel the burn instantly and know she’s done enough damage to leave an angry mark.

"Tori needed it, Mum. The medical bills were piling up," I whimper, holding my tingling cheek. "Who else do you think is going to pay for her treatment?"

"I don’t know why you bother. She’s half dead anyway." Bile rises in my throat at her comment.

I hear the contact before I feel it. Her foot connects to my ribs, hurling me into a folded-over position in agony.

I had a plan. I was going to save up enough money to get me and Tori out of here, but then she got sick.

Pressing my hand to my rib, I glance up briefly to see Mum walk tipsily away, probably in search of her vile boyfriend, Shane, who is dangerous with a capital D.

Money was tight before her illness. Now it’s pretty much non-existent.

♥?

I escaped the house as soon as I hand-washed my underwear and hung them on the windowsill. Thankfully there were no more encounters with Mum.

After catching two buses to Blacktown Hospital, I trudge through the bone-chilling hallways. As I make my way to where my sister is, I can’t help but shiver, which agitates my bruised rib. Why are hospitals so damn freezing? To top it off, my nostrils burn with bitter antiseptic and artificial soap that no one in their right mind would buy.

"Hi Tori," I sing, needing to be cheery otherwise the urge to burst into tears will drown and suffocate me. I try to do my best, but it’s never good enough, but Tori is suffering from something far worse, and I’ll be damned if I put this on her too.

I spot her peach fuzz head immediately as I enter the chemo room. I don’t even have to ask her how she’s feeling because I can see it written all over her face and body. She’s a bag of bones. A tatty grey sweater engulfs her skeletal frame, and her hands look as if they could freeze an entire city.

Immediately, I notice how gaunt and hollow she looks. "You’re awfully chipper this morning. Mum die or something?" No one gets our morbid humour, but us.

Plonking myself down next to her, I recount my morning, leaving out the part where our own Mother wished her daughter dead. I almost got away without telling her about my abused ribs

but I’m not quick enough to stifle a grimace when I shift the wrong way on the seat. As I tried to adjust my posture, a sharp twinge shot through me.

When I’ve convinced Tori I can handle Mum for a while longer, we go back to playfully bickering as sisters do. I know being trapped in here is no place for a teenager, so I’ve been scrimping and saving every last cent to take her mind off her illness.

I pull out an old Kindle I found at a pawn shop. It was one of the first versions, and despite it being chipped on every corner, the thing still works pretty damn well. Tori is an avid reader, and before she was diagnosed with cancer, she had dreams of becoming a writer. While her dreams are on hold for a little while, it can’t hurt to keep her passions alive. I can’t afford a laptop for her to do her writing, but I can give her the gift of unlimited books - especially if she sticks to downloading free books through the Libby Library app.

"Row. No. What did you do? How?" Her voice cracks. Now that I’m closer to her, I can see the chemo has taken a toll on her body. The dull lights highlight the ugly hue of blue, purple, and black circles under each of her eyes, and she’s lost the last of her lashes and eyebrows.

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