He left his address like I was going to write him, like we could be friends, like I didn’t hate the way he made me feel.
I balled it up and threw it in the trash basket next to my desk.
Late in the night, when the darkness stole away most everyone else’s consciousness, my fears crept in.
I tiptoed to the bin and uncrumpled the paper. I lay awake, clutching the crinkled edges of it as tears streamed down my face.
2
Katie
Months went by, and Daddy got worse.
I wrote Rome every week, not sure if he was reading my letters and not really caring at all. The outlet was there, and I needed it.
Rome,
We celebrated my seventeenth birthday at Dad’s bedside. He sang softly to me before I sang him a lullaby and tucked him in that night.
He winces in pain a lot more these days, and I’m not sure how to get better care for him.
I’ll find a way,
Katie
PS Cleopatra supposedly was not beautiful but smart enough to marry some of her political allies.
PPS I’m also reading Edgar Allan Poe. He seems to know darkness and pain better than anyone else. I need a friend like that.
A daughter’s love made me do what I had to do. I tracked down a suited man’s son in school. Jared let me into his home. He let me into his bed, too.
Weeks of my father in pain went by, and I begged Jared’s father for money. The man’s slimy gaze trailed my body over and over again. I started to learn the looks, the sly brushes of his hand, and the lift in his eyebrow when I caught him looking at me in a way he shouldn’t.
He gave me money for my dad’s medication, got me in touch with a doctor who would take my money.
One night, I got home too late for my father to think I was doing anything a normal seventeen-year-old should be doing. I handed him the meds.
His face fell, blood draining from it until he was even grayer than his usual sickly pallor. “Where did you get these?”
“I’m working. I told you. I saved and was able—”
He grunted. “Working where? These meds cost thousands, and they’re illegal to anyone—”
“I just . . .” I stuttered, not sure how to lie but knowing I had to. “I have a friend in the medical field.”
“The high school called,” he declared like I was already guilty.
I winced because I’d skipped class with Jared. “I had a headache and—”
“Jared isn’t a good friend to have, Katie. Is he the one getting you the jobs?”
How could I tell him that it wasn’t a job, just a gift from Jared’s dad, a man he must have known of?
“I don’t want you working anymore.” He emphasized the wordworking. Maybe he knew I wasn’t exactly working, that I’d found a clear way to make money to pay for meds but it wasn’t one he would approve of.
“Dad, just relax. We need the money.”
“No.” He slammed his hand down on the table. “I don’t want the medication. It won’t help in the long run, anyway. Stop what you’re doing, Katie. I don’t know how you got involved, but I want it to stop now.”