Sara
Looking back, I can remember the exact moment I gave up on my son. During all the fights and cold silences, through the mistakes and screw ups, I had somehow managed to have a little faith in him. It wasn't even his worst mistake that pushed me over the edge, in fact it wasn't even a mistake that took away that faith.
It was breakfast time. I was exhausted. Kate had been throwing up all night. Jesse was making noise, searching for cereal. The noise was deafening to my headache. "Mom!" He said suddenly. I clenched my fist under the table, my head pounding.
"Yes Jesse?" My voice could barely be called a whisper.
"Kate at the last of the Cheerios yesterday!" He complained. I looked at the young boy standing before me and suddenly felt angry. At him. Didn't he understand that his sister was upstairs dying? Didn't he understand that might have been the last bowl of Cheerios she ever ate? "Eat something else." I commanded, still whispering.
"Mom, I always eat Cheerios for good luck! I have a-"
I smashed my hands onto the table, wincing at the noise. "DAMNIT JESSE! EAT SOMETHING ELSE!" I yelled, cringing away from my own noise. He looked at me stunned, and left the kitchen. He didn't eat breakfast that morning. That afternoon he had moved into the apartment over the garage. I didn't care enough to apologize. I wasn't prepared to fight for him anymore.
Kate was sick.
I do not own My Sister's Keeper. I do not own Cheerios either.
~DI4MGZ~