Page 10 of Until Ace

Thank you, sis. I knew I could count on you.

I’m so fucking weak it’s unbelievable.

Jim’s latest text soothes something inside me though, something that is left raw on a daily basis. Something the members of my family are fully aware of, and they pick and scratch at it every chance they get. And even though I get a blip of approval from a person I love and at the same time hate most in the world, it still burns.

What the hell am I going to do?

I can't stand this anymore. I'm so tired of all the shit my family keeps piling on me, expecting me to solve all their problems. So tired of constantly being overlooked or looked down on.

Like every time I give in to feeling sorry for myself, I start gasping for breath, my head starts swimming, and a ball of fire scorches my throat.

I can't fall apart while I’m at work. That frequent pastime is only allowed when I’m at home. No one can see the truth.

I can't let anyone see just how hopeless and pathetic I am.

I need to keep up my façade.

Taking a big breath, I plaster on a fake smile and turn on my heel.

Speed-walking through the open space, I nod to the customers and my coworkers, their looks varying from interested and seductive to downright ugly. The latter, for the most part, are from the wives who are accompanying their husbands, and my coworkers, who—the majority—can't stand me. I hurry, hoping no one will clock the tears swimming in my eyes, blurring my vision, and that the first burning tear won't fall before I reach the break room.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief when I open the door and see the gloomy room is empty. There's always someone hanging around in here, but today, thankfully, I'm all alone. Before I let my emotions get the better of me, I pick up my phone and call the only other person who could help Jim.

I know she won't do it, because it would mean helping me. But I still try.

She answers on the second ring. “Mandy.”

My name singsongs off her tongue, sounding almost happy to hear from me, but I brush it off. She used to call me nasty names, including “whore,” and sometimes she beat me, but that stopped once I moved out. Now, she's all about the sweet.

It's a totally new level of mindfuck, since I never know when she's going to turn and strike me with venom. Nevertheless, same as with Jim, something in me yearns for her love and approval. I will never get it, I know it, but the crumbs she gives me make me come back for more.

When I stay silent, her voice turns slightly panicky. “Mandy?”

“Mom,” I whisper.

Now, it's her turn to be silent. I'm sure she already knows why I'm calling.

“Mom, it's Jim… again,” I say in a way of explanation.

“Can't you help him?” Gone is the sweet mother and entering the stage is the strict one I’ve known my whole life.

“I don't have that kind of money, Mom.” How she doesn’t hear the fear in my voice is beyond me.

It's clear she doesn't when she goes on. “I can't help you with this, sweetie.”

Gah. Sweetie—a sure thing to get me in line. She must be fully aware of what her beloved son got into this time.

“I just don't have any money to give you. You know your dad and I are barely making end’s meet. Besides, he reached out to you for help, not us.”

“But—” I try to get her to understand, but she interrupts me.

“Listen, I have to go. I'm at work, you know. I can't be on the phone all day. Help your brother. He's in a tight spot.”

Before I have a chance to say anything else, she hangs up.

“Yeah, help your brother out,” I mock to no one.

He’s a grown man. He should be able to stay out of trouble. And if he can’t, he should be able to at least try to get himself out of it.