Section 8 Agency

ORIGINAL SHORT STORY ALERT!

            She made me call her mommy. She made me comb my hair. She made me bundle up in the snow. She made me wear a raincoat. She made me hold her hand crossing the street. She made me lie for her. She made me vow to God. She made me look both ways. She made me tell her, “I love you.” She made me cry. She made me test the temperature before getting into the bathtub. She made me put ice on it.

            She made me explain to her why I made mommy hit me. She made me tell my teachers I was playing rough on the merry-go-round. She made me tell the doctors I was a tomboy. She made me wear pink dresses. She made me tell the daddies when it was over. She made me hold her when she cried. She made me go to Stop N’ Shop with her food stamps and she made me tell my friends it was for the neighbors. She made me take the food out of the freezer. She made me do the laundry. She made me do the dishes. She made me hide the Southern Comfort when relatives came over. She made me put it on the rocks when they were gone. She made me polish the woodwork. She made me vacuum the floors. She made me clean out the closets. She made me get out of bed at four in the morning to rearrange the furniture. She made me go to school three hours late. She made me get good grades. She made me tell the teachers I was sick when I wasn’t. She. Made me give excuse after excuse so she wouldn’t be alone. She made me food as a reward. She made me feel ugly when I put on weight. She made me cut my hair when it grew too pretty. She made me comb her long pretty hair. She made me read 100 books whenever I was grounded for not doing what she told me. She made me discuss them with her prove I read them even though she hadn’t before. She made me believe we were a team.

            She made me believe we lived a clean, Christian way of life. She made me keep everything that happened in our house, our secret. She made me believe Jesus was watching over us. She made me believe it was all so we could get into heaven. She made me say the Our Father and the Hail Mary. She made me identify myself as a Protestant. She made me observe Lent. She made me go to a Catholic Church every now and again. She made me pray for my daily sinners. She made me pray for forgiveness for my sins. She made me believe it was us against them.

            She made me go to college. She made me take classes that would get me a good paying job. She made me listen to her insults when I took creative or free-thinking classes. She made me lose weight so I could “catch a man.” She made me get regular check-ups. She made me hide her love affair with a married man. She made me tell my best friend, “I didn’t know.” She made me drink 100 proof everything. She made me sleep to avoid her. She made me hide and purge my food. She made me smoke pot in the basement. She made me hide hers in my underwear drawer. She made me say, “no to drugs.”

            She made me pray to God for mercy. She made me ask God to find her a man. She made me hate my own skin. She made me write her after I left. She made me listen to her reasons. She made me feel bad about myself. She made me think it was all my fault. She made me believe she had all the answers. She made me realize she was manipulating me. She made me see through her veneer. She made me grow angry. She made me rage against everything I had been taught. She made me hate her enough to walk away and never look back. She made me realize that all she ever taught me was to be questioned.

            She made me realize that there was only one lesson left. She made me realize I had to leave. She made me find the reasons for my hang-ups. She made me get up off the shrink’s couch. She made me stand up for myself. She made me stronger. She made me realize I am worth living for. She made me find my voice. She made me learn. She made me live. She made me love. She made me.