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Ms. Kelp looked down at my arms. “Oh, sweetheart.” She walked me out of the closet with my camera and my photos and sat me back at the table. “Who did this to you?”
I didn’t answer. It didn’t matter. If I told on them, they’d bully me more when she left. She was the only safety net I had, anyway. Without her, I’d have nothing.
I slouched in my chair as Ms. Kelp got a first aid kit and taped up my wrists.
“You got to tell us who’s bullying you, Damian. Otherwise, we can’t help,” Ms. Kelp said.
I huffed and muttered under my breath.
Telling on bullies only made them bully me worse.
She sighed. “I got your pictures developed. Want to see them?”
I nodded, still slouching in the chair. She handed me the package of photos, and I began flipping through them. Seeing my pictures made me feel a little bit better.
“You’re extremely talented, Damian. I think you’re going to do so much good in this world,” she told me. Ms. Kelp was good at that—showering me with compliments that I probably didn’t deserve.
I showed her one of the photographs. My favorite one.
She smiled. “It’s my favorite, too,” she said. “I might have looked at them before coming over. You’re gifted, Damian.”
I shrugged.
It didn’t feel like I had any gifts.
I stared at my photos for a while longer, and when I looked up to Ms. Kelp, she looked as if she was about to cry. I raised an eyebrow, confused.
“I got some news today, Damian.” She shifted in her seat. “You remember how I told you my father lives in Detroit?”
I nodded.
“Well.” Ms. Kelp frowned. “He had a fall the other day, and he’s not doing too well. I had to go out to check on him the past weekend. After doing some thinking, which was hard and a long process, I decided he needed more help. So, I am moving back to Detroit to help with his care.”
“What?” I gasped, sitting up straighter. Tears instantly hit my eyes. “You’re leaving?”
Ms. Kelp began crying, too, because whenever I was sad, she got sad, too. “Yes, sweetheart. I am. I wish there was another option, but I have to go take care of my father.”
“But what about me?” I whispered. It was selfish, and needy, and rude, but…
What about me?
I didn’t talk often, except for when words were truly needed.
Ms. Kelp took my hands into hers. “You’re going to be okay, Damian,” she swore, but it felt like a lie.
“Take me with you.”
Her hand landed against her heart. “I’m sorry, Damian. That’s not a possibility.”
“But you’re…you’re…”
You’re all I have.
She kept talking, but I went mute again. It was clear she wasn’t going to take me with her. It was clear that at the end of the day, I was just a job to her, something she could quit whenever she needed to. I thought she was my friend. I thought she was my family. I thought we’d never have to really say goodbye.
When she left, the house felt colder. I felt alone. So alone.
The bullies came back, and they mocked me.
