Part 2The Day Mom Cut My Last Lifeline

Family gatherings at my uncle Pete Anderson's house were always lively.

I sat on a small stool in the corner. The welts across my back rubbed against my shirt. Every slight movement sent a sharp stab of pain through me.

Pete's wife, Beatrice Stone, came over with a cup of water. "How's college? Getting the hang of it?"

I had barely opened my mouth when Mom cut in. "All she does is cause trouble every day. Yesterday, she made such a scene over a stray cat that the whole neighborhood heard about it."

My youngest aunt, Claire Anderson, frowned. "It was only a cat. How did it turn into something that big?"

Dad lounged at the head of the table with one leg crossed over the other. "'Cause she was spoiled rotten. Back in senior year, she said she was under too much pressure, so we let her keep the cat.

"Now that she's gotten into college, she's still acting like a child."

My oldest aunt, Donna Anderson, chimed in. "Kids these days are too calculating. They're always using some illness to scare their parents."

I lowered my head, my fingernails digging deeper into my palm. All those nights when I could barely breathe, to them, had been nothing more than my manipulation.

Dishes were served. Mom pressed me into the seat at the very end.

Everyone ate and chattered about their children. Aunt Donna's son had just been admitted to graduate school. The son of Benny Anderson, my second uncle, had landed a job at a state-owned enterprise.

The atmosphere grew livelier by the minute. Every time another child was mentioned, someone would praise them for having such a bright future.

When the conversation turned to me, all I got was a long sigh from Mom.

"She was never as good as the other kids," she remarked. "She couldn't match her cousin's grades, couldn't match their personality, and couldn't even handle basic housework."

I lowered my head and stared at the plate. I had heard things like that for 19 years.

"When she was little, we signed her up for piano. She couldn't learn," Mom continued. "Then, we tried art. She didn't have any talent for that either. She finally got into college, and even that was pure luck."

Dad nodded along. "She's slow, yet refuses to work hard. Other kids know how to appreciate their parents, while all she knows is how to make trouble for us."

Aunt Donna shook her head. "Kids nowadays can't handle hardship."

Mom smiled bitterly. "I must've been cursed to end up with a child like her. She knows how to spend money, and that's about it."

Every eye at the table turned to me. Only one pair was sympathetic.

"She's still young. Give her some time," Aunt Beatrice said.

Mom chortled. "Young? She's 19. Her life's already a lost cause."

The whole table fell silent. In their eyes, I really was that much of a failure.

The truth was, I had always done well in school. In my senior year, I came home with a report card that ranked me in the top 20 of the entire school.

Mom simply glanced at me and asked, "Why weren't you the first?"

Later, when I got into college, she asked, "There are so many top universities out there. Why didn't you get into any of them?"

No matter how well I did, she could always find someone better to compare me to, making me feel small. A bone-deep exhaustion washed over me.

Dad turned to me with a cold laugh. "Why aren't you saying anything? Have you finally realized you're a loser?"

I looked up. The fire I had kept buried in my chest for years finally broke free. "And have you realized how awful a parent you both are?"

The air stilled. Everyone stared at me in stunned silence.

Mom's face slowly flushed red. "What did you just say?"

I tightened my grip on my cutlery. Although my voice shook, I didn't stop. "I don't want to keep giving in to you guys anymore."

Dad shot to his feet so fast that his chair was knocked over. "I'll beat you to death today!"

Uncle Pete lunged over to stop him. "Not in my house, Stuart!"

The whole room dissolved into chaos. Some tried to calm him down, while others grabbed him to hold him back.

Mom stayed seated at the table, tears welling up on cue. "You all saw that, didn't you? I raised her for 19 years, and this is how she speaks to me!"

Aunt Donna immediately took her side. "Ave, apologize to your mother. No matter what they do wrong, it's not your place to talk back to them in front of everyone."

I looked at their mouths moving, but I couldn't make out a single word anymore. Slowly, I got to my feet. "I won't apologize."

Mom's sobbing stopped for a split second. I turned and walked toward the front door.

Behind me, her voice rose into a shrill scream. "Avery Cooper, if you walk out that door today, don't ever take me as your mother again!"

I pulled the door open. The autumn wind rushed in, stinging the cut at the corner of my eye.

I didn't look back because the moment Tangy was abandoned, I stopped having a home.