Mom...

Why didn't you ever tell me that you were a mail order bride? I found the papers in the basement while I was... trying to gather my thoughts. Now I know why you always told me to stay out of there.

And why you were always so distant. You didn't have to hide it, but maybe you were ashamed that you made a child with someone you didn't love, and feared my telling others. That wasn't your only fear though, was it?

You also feared it would lead to my asking about the contract. Yeah, I found that too. You knew the entire time, through my childhood, that he was waiting, didn't you? Because you agreed to it?

But if you agreed to it, why did you keep trying to warn me? All I keep thinking about was the random times when you would tell me that things were going to change once I hit puberty, that I wouldn't be treated the same way anymore. Things were going to change...

When I was little, I thought you were trying to tell me to grow up. I didn't understand that you were telling me the exact opposite.

There was one day I remember... I had tried on my favorite pair of jeans from the year before. We had kept them because we thought they would still fit... You told me, "See, I keep telling you to stay a child forever."

Mom I have to ask... did you hear me that day? At my birthday party? I kept calling for you to come, but at some point the music upstairs became much louder.

I would pass the blame to you for what he did to me but... but you were right when you left. I still can't shake the pain I felt when you said it. I wanted to understand why it happened, why you never went to find me that day... That's why I kept asking you while you were packing your clothes. And you put it in perspective for me with such a simple explanation.

"Because my son is a fool."

After you let dad drive off, I went to your bedroom. I was just wandering. Trying to get used to the house being empty, with the exception of all of the chairs and stuff... You forgot that sweater... the light brown one? It was under your bed with all of our old photo albums. I looked through some of them and it made me laugh when I saw all of the times you'd worn it to hide your belly.

I kind of like it. It's really comfortable, you know. I don't understand why you didn't remember to grab it. I know I'm a boy but if I was pregnant with a special little bun in the oven, I would want to keep the shirt I wore to cover up the precious child.

But I'm a fool so maybe I wasn't precious enough for you to keep it.

I stared at that last sentence and honestly I felt a bit foolish myself. I didn't have a mother anymore and behaved as if it didn't matter. But then I wondered if he ever really had a mother. My friends back home, when I saw them with their parents... Their moms always looked out for them. Pissed them off when they would tell them no for their own good, but cared for them. Did his mother care?

I wiped my eyes and shook off the anger and pity I felt for him, turning the page with a trembling hand.