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Maggie’s voice broke as she told me all this, the factual tone gone, and I could hear her pain. It was visceral. So much so I felt it in the centre of my chest, a piercing ache. My gut twisted just imagining her hearing the news of the carnage her mother had caused. How awful she must’ve felt.
“I just always wonder if there was something I could’ve done. If I’d known about the burglaries and what they were up to, I could’ve gotten them to stop. I could’ve given them their drug money or maybe even dobbed them in to the Gardaí. I might’ve prevented those people from being killed, and some nights, I lie awake thinking about it. I think about the lives she ruined with her recklessness and wish I could’ve stopped her. I wish I’d made more of an effort to get her to change and be a better person. And I hate her so much. I hate her for making my life so full of pain, but the more I’m away from her, the better I can pretend she doesn’t exist. I can escape the memories, stop her creeping into my thoughts. But now I can’t get away from her because Vivi wants to see her, and I can’t say no to my sister. I feel physically incapable of denying her my help.”
Listening to Maggie speak, it was hard to imagine all she’d been through. First, her mother had made her homeless at sixteen, and then she’d killed three people by driving recklessly. And now, Maggie, being the empathic person she was, had to live with the guilt of things that weren’t even her doing.
“I understand why you feel how you do,” I typed. “But there was nothing you could’ve done to change things. People can only alter their ways if they choose to do so themselves. And it’s admirable how you care for your sister, but you really shouldn’t see your mother if you think it’s going to affect you adversely. If your sister truly wants to see her and needs someone to take her, then I’ll do it,” I offered. “I’ll do anything to prevent you from seeing the woman who’s caused you so much suffering. Your mental health is too important.”
Maggie sniffed and shook her head. “I could never let you do that. I would never …” She reached out and caressed my cheek. “I would never let her meet you. You’re so special to me, Shay, and she ruins everything she touches. No, I can survive seeing her once. It will be hell, but I can do it for Vivi.”
“What if I don’t want to let you do it?” I typed, angry now.
Why wouldn’t she just let me shoulder the burden for her? She was always so determined to survive on her own. Didn’t she realise I wanted to help her? I wanted to protect her in every way; bodily, spiritually, emotionally. And I was strong enough to deal with her mother, no matter how toxic she might be.
Often others saw my mutism as a weakness, something that held me back, but over the years, I realised it could be a superpower, too. People couldn’t draw me into petty arguments, couldn’t use sly conversational tactics to get me to lose face. In those situations, my silence was a strength, more powerful than a witty comeback or wry retort. It made cruel or mean people look like blithering idiots as they talked and talked while I remained a stoic wall of silence.
Maggie let out a small, watery laugh. “I’m afraid you can’t stop me, Shay.” She fell quiet for a few moments, then said, “But you can help me.” Her words were spoken softly, meaningfully. I knew what she wanted. It pained me to deny her because I wanted it, too, but I wouldn’t allow our first time to be tainted by the desperate way she was feeling right then. If her mother was as terrible as Maggie described, then I didn’t want any part of her to shadow what was between us. I didn’t want Maggie to think about our first time and remember she only did it to escape the pain she was going through.
“Why don’t I run you a bath?”
Her expression fell. “I don’t want a bath.”
“It will help you relax. Have you eaten yet? There are some leftovers downstairs.” I moved to stand, but she grabbed my wrist.
“Please, Shay. Stay here with me.”
I glanced at my bed, temptation drawing on me once more, but I held strong, shaking my head.
She stood and walked to the door, her arms folded when she turned back, her voice cracking. “You don’t want me anymore. I should’ve expected it. I never tell people about Mam because they always see me differently after. Tainted. I’m tainted.”
