does, she’ll force Mom to move on. I know this to the depths of my soul.
Glory places both of her hands on my cheeks and forces me to focus. “You have to learn to let go of the dead or they will drag you to death with them. You know this. You cannot permit death to have a foothold in your life.”
This is why I refuse to go into a house without gaining anyone’s permission. A story I heard once, as a child, and it stuck with me. Vampires have to be given permission or they can’t enter the house. Vampires are death and death can’t enter unless you allow it. For years I wondered, had my mother too easily welcomed death in? Or maybe somehow I had without knowing. It made me wary of how I let people into my life—what effect they could have on me without my being aware. It also made me wary of letting myself be cared for by others.
I shake my head with the thought. It’s stupid, I know, but it’s a childhood fear that manifested and grew as my mother’s condition worsened.
“As long as you continue to let your mother linger she’ll haunt your every move, your every decision, your every action.”
Wetness burns my eyes. “But I love her.”
“I know you do, but keeping her this close is stopping you from living.”
I jerk and Glory drops her hands. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs and the sound of Dad whistling one of his favorite songs. As soon as Dad opens the door, Glory and I will pretend we were never having this conversation, which equal parts thrills me and terrifies me. “I’m living.”
“Whether you understand it or not—you have made the same decisions your mother has—you’re choosing a slow death. All I’ve seen for years is a girl preparing to die. That’s not living, V. That’s dying. I don’t see a girl who’s living. I see a girl terrified of her future.”
SAWYER
Friday November 8: Same old everything. Cure and cure and then some more cure.
Ida, Tillie and I took a walk this afternoon. That is, we took a ride to the Ray Brook house. We went in to see Harry Brown. Jiminy, Diary, he looks simply dreadful.
How many people did Evelyn know at the hospital who died? And how did she handle it?
A thump, the sound of something heavy in the living room. My eyes flash open and I jerk up with the sight of a figure in front of me.
“Sawyer,” comes a small voice with a light tremble and a light tap on my arm. A much-needed adrenaline rush courses through me and the high is almost as good as jumping. “Sawyer, wake up. You need to find Mommy.”
My sister holds her mermaid doll to her chest and she’s stroking it so quickly I’m afraid she’ll make it bald. I take the earbud out of my right ear as the left one must have fallen out at some point, then place my hand over hers to stop the frantic petting. In a swift motion, I pick Lucy up to have her sit beside me on the mattress I still haven’t placed in a frame.
“I told you, Mom’s hanging out with friends.” Truth is, I don’t know where Mom is. She hid away from us in her room last night, and she hadn’t bothered coming home when it was time for Lucy to go to bed or when I finally gave in to sleep.
She never answered my texts, never answered my call, and didn’t seem to give a damn I skipped school today. Between my grief over Veronica and my worry and anger involving my mom, I’m a bottle rocket ready to explode, but I’ve been able to stay home and away from jumping because of my sister. She needs me and I’m holding on to that for dear life.
“Did you have another nightmare?” My voice is cracked, groggy. I don’t need to check my cell for the time. Lucy’s become a clock herself and she strikes me awake right at midnight. At least she’s not screaming like a maniac. She might not be stage-five uncontrollable, but I don’t like how she’s shaking like a damn bunny facing a wolf.
“The monster’s back and he was huge.” Her lower lip trembles, and she wipes at her eyes as they fill. “He hovered near the door of my room. He walked in, and he was like a shadow. Then he left, checked your room