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“It's dark inside my cupboard, Amelia.”
“Well…” She smiles broadly. “It's a good thing I have a flashlight.”
I chuckle at her light joke. She is making me too comfortable, and I don't like that…but it doesn't feel bad.
“You might think that you're broken, Tanner. But you're not.”
“How are you so sure?” I try to stall so that I can at least have some time to ready myself for a trip down memory lane.
“Because my father used to say…”
I knew her dad, so I wait patiently to hear which one of his words of wisdom she is about to quote.
“‘Just because something is broken…’”
I remember this quote, and smile as I say it in unison with her.
“‘... doesn't mean it can't be fixed. Just because something is lost, doesn't mean it can't be found.’”
She grins at me. “See? You can be fixed.”
Amelia takes my hand and sits on the bed. Then she taps the space beside her.
“Sit.”
I stay quiet for a moment as I think about it. It’s something I don’t like to talk about, and yet, everything screams at me to tell her all about it.
I sigh and sit beside her on the bed. My mouth opens, but I can't seem to find the right words. My mind suddenly goes blank, which is annoyingly ironic considering that just seconds ago my head was filled with those memories.
Now, I'm grasping for what to say and how to say it. My thoughts are disorganized, and my brain seems to have abandoned me.
“Hey.” Her palm rests on my cheek, and a dose of comfort hits me. “It's okay.” Her smile almost breaks down the wall that I've put up for years.
How is she doing that? I feel my heart melting at her touch, racing at her words, which are now soothing my wounds.
“My mother was a junkie.” I finally speak and a sigh comes forth.
“She constantly swore to give up her terrible habits so that we could be a happy family, but she never managed to do that.” I put my head down and allow my mind to travel through the corridors of time, back to when it all began for me.
I was thirteen.
I woke up that morning with hunger gnawing at the insides of my belly because I hadn't eaten the night before.
Mom had come home late again, past midnight, too tired and wasted. I hadn't made any food, and she yelled at me for being irresponsible. She called me names and blamed me for having to go to bed on an empty stomach…but there hadn’t been any groceries in the house, and there was no money to go to the convenience store.
I tried to tell her that, but she didn't listen. She pushed me out of her way and headed toward the couch in the living room, where she crashed.
I had been angry, and as always, I struggled to push it all down. I couldn't blame her. Right? It always made her awful, but she never stopped taking it. She was obviously high on that white stuff again. I just went upstairs to my room that night, angrily slamming my door shut behind me.
It wasn’t the first time I went to bed hungry.
I lay awake in bed for a while because I did not want to get up, but funny sounds from downstairs made me jump out of bed, worried.
I sneaked down the stairs to find my mom lying on the couch. She was the one making the funny sounds as a man with hispants down, revealing his bare butt, was grinding his waist over hers.
I halted by the staircase and called out softly. “Mom?” I was confused.
“Shit!” The man abruptly jumped off her, pulling up his pants and fixing his belt.
