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JOÃO
Everyone else slept at Kai’s house.
But tonight, I couldn’t seem to shut my fucking eyes. With my hand stuffed into my sweatpants pocket, I laid in bed, stared up at the bland ceiling, and rubbed my fingers against Mom’s suicide note. As ironic as it was, the note was the only thing keeping me sane right now.
Ana lay next to Imani on Kai’s bed, her head in the crook of her shoulder and her eyes closed for once. Lately, she’d had a hard time sleeping, but not tonight. She had fallen asleep like she hadn’t slept in ages.
If only I could’ve.
But after seeing that woman with her daughter at the restaurant today, all I could seem to think about was Mom and Ana. I wanted her back so badly and would do anything—fucking anything—to have her again, so Ana could have a normal life.
After cursing, I shuffled out of bed and walked to the front door. I punched in the fucking security code and walked outside into the frigid fucking air. Shockingly, tonight, the slums of Redwood weren’t as loud as they usually were. We were used to this shit and this drama.
None of us were surprised that the Redwood rich were corrupt.
Once I sat on the front steps, I pulled out everything inside my pocket and tossed them onto the concrete next to me. I took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up, drawing in the smoke and letting it fucking ruin me.
I stared at the suicide note for seconds, minutes, hours. There were creases that I’d made all over it, small tears at the side, and dark cursive handwriting that bled through the thin sheet.
I couldn’t read it. Not now. I had too much other shit on my mind. I had to protect Ana and Imani, and I couldn’t do that if I was a sopping fucking mess because of Mom, because Mom had decided to end her life and leave me with all these responsibilities. I couldn’t fucking do it.
But I needed to. I needed to do it so badly.
“Fuck it,” I muttered, grabbing the note and unfolding it.
When I saw Mom’s handwriting in Portuguese and tears staining the ink on the page, I drew the cigarette out of my mouth and placed a hand over my face instead to hold back my sobs because it had been so long since I’d heard her voice in my head, since I had seen a part of her again.
Dear beloved children,
Always remember that Mama loves you both so much. I am sorry that I have worked so much these past few years after your father left. I am sorry that I couldn’t get you both off the bus every single day and have you both come home to a warm meal. But most of all, I am so sorry that we can’t make more brigadeiros ever again as a family.
João, I’ve tried so hard to get clean for you and for Ana, but I know that I will never be able to live without that high. I’ve tried twice and have failed both times.
Tonight, I cleaned the house for you for the last time. It took more in me than it did to scrounge for money to buy drugs from men you’d kill if you met them.
Please, don’t be angry with me. I’ve done everything that I could to be your mother. But I don’t think I am cut out for such a job. I don’t deserve such a job, as a moment can’t go by without me thinking about a way to get high.
I’m sorry if you feel alone. I’m sorry if you can’t forgive me.
Please take care of your sister. Please let her know that I tried my hardest, but my hardest wasn’t good enough. Nobody’s hardest is ever good enough in the Redwood slums.
Again, I’m sorry, and I love you.
Love,
Mama
A sob loud enough to wake the neighborhood escaped my fucking mouth. I doubled over on the front steps, one hand covering my face and the other grabbing the note tightly in my grasp. This was the last piece of Mom that I had left, and I never wanted to let it go.
I didn’t know how long I sat on those front steps and cried, but it was a long fucking time.
When I gathered myself together enough, I walked back inside, crawled up into the bed next to Imani, and wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my head against her shoulder and breathing in her vanilla scent. My body trembled back and forth, the thought of being without Mom forever actually sinking into me.
Never again would I see her fucking smile.
Imani shifted in my arms, her curls brushing against my face. “João?”
“Go back to sleep,” I whispered, desperate for my voice not to fucking shatter.
