Chapter 14 - Unlocking the Past
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On day twenty of the eviction timeline, I spent the evening organizing a small lockbox of personal documents I had managed to pack before leaving the apartment.
Buried at the bottom of the metal box was an old, leather-bound journal I had kept during my early twenties. I opened the stiff pages, reading the faded ink.
Entry after entry detailed the suffocating reality of growing up with my mother.
Karla got a new car today. Mom said I couldn't get a loan for college because Dad needed the credit for his business.
Mom told me I looked pathetic begging for help with rent. She said strong women figure it out.
I ran my fingers over the paper. The hypocrisy was staggering. When I needed help, I was told to suffer and figure it out. But when they needed help, they felt entitled to completely drain my life savings and still treat me like dirt.
“Mama?” Sophia asked, pulling on my sweater sleeve. “Read book?”
I closed the journal, tossing it back into the lockbox. I scooped my daughter up, burying my face in her soft, sweet-smelling hair.
“Of course, baby,” I smiled.
As I read her a story about a brave little bear, I realized how much Sophia was already thriving in the boarding house. Without the constant yelling, the heavy sighs, and the toxic tension of my parents' apartment, my daughter was laughing more. She was sleeping better.
May you like
I had been so terrified of failing as a single mother that I had accepted abuse in exchange for a roof over our heads. I didn't need their roof. I owned it.
I kissed Sophia’s forehead as she drifted off to sleep, feeling a fierce, unbreakable resolve settle into my bones. Ten days left.
