My Last Birthday: I Died While Mommy Said She Was Done With Me Chapter 01
Today was my fifth birthday. But before the cake ever arrived, Mommy slapped me across the face.
It was only because I whispered, “Mommy, my chest hurts.”
Then her shove sent me crashing into the hard wood floor.
Everything got all swimmy. Then I heard Mommy’s shaky, wet crying from above.
“Ever since you were diagnosed with that bleeding disorder, we’ve had to build our whole lives around you.”
“It’s your sister’s first day of school. We just wanted to take her. And you couldn’t let us have that? You had to pretend you were sick?”
No… I didn’t. The pain was real. Like something burning.
But at the sight of Mommy’s faded clothes and my sister’s worn secondhand backpack, I closed my mouth.
Mommy and Daddy had spent everything they had on my treatment. I couldn’t keep making things harder for them.
Mommy was still crying.
I got to my feet, legs barely holding, and walked over to hold the hem of her shirt.
“Mommy, Don’t cry. I’ll take my medicine. I won’t say it hurts again.”
To show her, I pulled the pills out of my pocket, but my hands were shaking so bad。
The pills scattered all over the floor.
Mommy froze. I could feel her breath stop. Then I was shoved away again.
“Do you have any idea how much that medicine costs?” Mommy screamed, her voice getting all high and scary.
“If you really want to die, then go die. Just stop making our lives miserable, okay?”
She threw the rest of my medicine at me, grabbed my little sister’s hand, and stormed out.
The door slammed shut behind them.
I looked down at the cut that was still bleeding. My whole body was getting colder.
…
The glass went crash and suddenly my hand felt a sharp, mean sting.
Something warm and sticky started crawling down my fingers.
I stared at the red stuff for a heartbeat, then I heard the doctor’s scary voice in my head.
“You have to be extra careful, Emily. Your blood is like a leaky faucet that doesn’t have a handle to turn it off.”
I fumbled for a Band-Aid, the plastic wrapper crinkling loudly in the quiet room.
But the sticky part wouldn’t stay. Blood just pushed it right off.
I tried to find a towel, but I heard a drip, drip, drip on the floor.
My whole body went stiff.
Mommy hated having a mess in the house. Her angry face popped into my head and made my tummy hurt.
I quickly pulled up my sleeve and tried to wipe the blood away. But it just made a big, scary red cloud on the tiles.
It smelled like old metal pennies. I wrapped a heavy towel around my hand, squeezing as hard as I could.
It didn’t work.
And it got worse. The shivers came. My fingers felt like ice cubes, and the cold was biting into my tummy.
So I ran the tap in the big tub and filled the bathtub with hot water, getting in.
It felt better.
But the red didn’t stop. It twirled in the water like a ribbon, turning everything dark.
This was so scary.
I suddenly missed Mommy and Dad so much. I tapped my buzzy watch to call Dad.
It just went ring… ring… ring…
He didn’t pick up.
So I called Mommy.
The phone exploded with loud music and the sound of kids screaming and laughing.
It sounded like a bright, happy party, but I was stuck in the dark.
“Say it. Make it quick, Emily. Your sister is going on stage!”
“Mommy, I’m scared… there’s so much red… and I’m cold…”
A pause. And her voice turned sharp and prickly, like a thorn.
“Again?”
“Do you have to act sick every time we’re trying to have fun with your sister?”
“Emily, you’re a big girl now. Stop being such a baby and fix it yourself!”
Then came the click.
The silence in the bathroom felt even louder than the music.
I watched the water get darker and darker, and a big lump grew in my throat.
Mommy was right.
I kept making everything hard.
Being sick was a bother.
Being sad was a bother.
And now this—bleeding was a bother too.
Tears started falling. Then I saw it. Mommy’s fuzzy sweater was right there.
I pulled it to my face and breathed in.
It smelled like her, like the pretty white flowers she puts in her hair.
For a moment, I was small again. Small enough that Mommy’s arms went all the way around me.
The last time I had a fever, she had stayed beside me all night just like this.
The water slowly grew cold.
The blood was coming slower. Maybe I was almost empty.
My head started to feel light and floaty, like a leaky balloon. And I wondered if I’d finally be a “good girl” once all the red was gone.
Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t have to stay up all night anymore.
My sister wouldn’t have to share her toys or Mommy with a sick girl.
And I wouldn’t have to bite my pillow at night to keep the owies quiet.
That would be better. For all of us.
I smiled. I curled up small in the tub, tucking my knees to my chin.
For the first time, the world felt quiet and safe.
It felt like being in a warm, dark dream, from before I was even born.