hot, and then icy-cold. So she wanted me to
leave her alone and go away? Well, she was in
for a surprise, because that was the one thing I
was never, ever going to do!
Tears ran down my face as I switched off
the computer. Why was I crying? I wasn’t sad,
I was angry. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve
and hurried across the hallway to my room.
I slammed the door.
I threw myself on my bed and hugged a
pillow. My tears dried up as I planned how to
get back at her. Soon I knew just what I was
going to do. I could hardly wait. She could
throw me in jail if she wanted to. I didn’t care.
But she was going to be sorry.
35
Chapter 6
Mom’s House
When Mom drove away in her red sports
car the next morning, I was sitting in the park,
waiting. She didn’t see me. In fact, it looked
like she was singing along with the radio as
she drove past. She didn’t have a care in the
world.
Her car turned the corner, and I stood up.
My fists were clenched. It was time.
First, I looked around the park until I found
what I was searching for – a long, heavy stick.
I swung it in my hand. It felt strange. I’d
36
never done anything like this before. I couldn’t believe that I was going to do it now.
But I was.
I hid the stick under my coat and headed
for Mom’s house. My pulse raced as I went
around the side of it. There were weeds
everywhere, and pieces of wood.
I walked around the corner to the back.
A gate led into her back yard. I tugged at it.
It was locked, so I climbed over it. I was
panting hard now. I almost fell as I dropped to
the ground. God, I wasn’t very good at this
kind of thing! I heard a car drive past, and I
froze. Nothing happened, and after a moment
I relaxed again.
I walked over to the house. The back door
was locked, of course. I took the stick out from
under my coat and smashed in one of the
panes of glass. Then I put my hand down
inside. The key was still in the lock, and I
turned it easily.
I opened the door and stepped into my
mom’s house. The broken glass crunched
under my feet. The house was totally silent.
37
I could hear myself breathing. I gripped my stick in both hands and headed towards the
living room.
Thump!
What was that? I stopped in my tracks.
My hands were cold and sweaty. Was there
someone else in the house?
The noise came again. I felt dizzy with
fear. Who was in there? Soft footsteps started
heading towards me. I made a sound like a
squeak, and lifted the stick over my head.
I thought I was going to pass out.
A small orange cat came into the kitchen.
“Oh!” I gasped. I felt like an idiot! I put down
my stick and leaned against the wall. My
heart was thumping like I’d just climbed a
mountain.
The cat meowed and patted at my shoe
with its paw. It wasn’t much older than a
kitten. I picked it up. “You scared me,”
I scolded. The cat purred. I stroked its soft
fur, and then put it down.
OK, I had to quit messing around.
I thought of Mom, and what she’d done to me –
38
and I put down my stick and went into the living room. The cat followed me, like he
thought it was a game.
The living room was nothing special. There
was a sofa and a coffee table. Across the room
was an armchair and a TV. I lifted my stick
up. I was breathing hard. What should I
smash first? What would hurt her the most?
Then I saw what else was in the room.
It felt like someone had punched me in the
stomach. I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be
true. But it was.
Everywhere I looked, my face was looking
back at me.
The photos were everywhere. On top of the
There were dozens of them, and they were all
of me. I dropped my stick and picked up the
nearest one. It was me and Mom when I was
about four years old. I had my arms around
her neck, and we were both smiling. She
looked young and pretty. Happy.
I felt numb. I picked up another picture.
I was pulling pink paper off a birthday present.
39
In another one, I was making a funny face at the camera.
My legs felt weak. I sank down onto the
sofa. Why? Why? She didn’t want anything to
do with me, so why did she have my picture
everywhere? Suddenly I felt angry. How dare
she keep my picture around like she was some
kind of perfect mom! She didn’t have any
right!
I’d smash them all. That would show her!
I threw the photo of me and Mom onto the
floor. I stood there with my foot over it. I was
going to crush it with my heel, but I couldn’t
make myself stamp down. I just couldn’t.
I picked the photo up and threw it at the wall
as hard as I could.
The stick lay on the floor. I kicked it
across the room, and started to cry. I was
such an idiot! I might have known that I’d get
here and then just chicken out. But I had to do
something. I had to. I felt like I was on fire.
There was a thick marker pen on the table.
I grabbed it. I could smell the ink as I took off
the cap. I wrote on the wall in great big
letters, I’M GLAD YOU LEFT! The words looked
40
scrawled and shaky. I threw the marker pen across the room.
“I am!” I shouted. “I’m glad! Do you hear
me? Glad!”
I started to really cry then. My shoulders
shook as I gasped and sobbed. I sank onto the
sofa, hugging myself. I was so fat. I felt like
such a freak. No wonder she’d left.
After a while, the cat crept out from under
a chair and watched me. I felt bad that I’d
scared it.
“Come here,” I said. I put out my hand.
It came slowly towards me, and then jumped
up into my lap. I held onto it, stroking it.
I was so tired. I felt like I’d lived a million
years in one morning. I wiped my eyes and
sank back into the sofa. I’d just have a few
minutes’ rest, I told myself. Then I’d go home
and never think about my mom again.
I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I
knew, there was the sound of a door closing.
My eyes flew open.
My mom was standing in front of me.
41
Chapter 7
Secrets
She stood staring at me like I was a ghost.
She was holding a white plastic shopping bag,
clutching it with both hands. I saw her read
the big black words on the wall. She l
ooked
scared.
“Sarah?” she whispered, and looked back at
me.
I sat up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t.
“It was you,” she said. “Why have you been
doing these things to me?”
42
My chin jerked up as I stared at her. Her hair was messy again, and her glasses looked
dirty. “Why do you think?” I said. My voice
trembled.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve
been asking myself … I just don’t understand …”
She sank down into the chair. The shopping
bag fell open at her feet. I could see
paintbrushes and pencils in it.
Was she really that stupid? “Because you
left!” I cried. “And then you didn’t write, or
phone, or anything!”
Suddenly I was on my feet, shouting at her.
“You left and I hate you for it! And then you
came back again and you didn’t even want to
see me! I’m your daughter, you can’t just
ignore me!”
She seemed to get smaller with every word.
“I wasn’t ignoring you,” she mumbled. “It was
for the best.”
“The best?” I opened my mouth and closed
it again. I didn’t know what to say. “It wasn’t,”
I said at last. I was trying not to cry. “It was
horrible. You just left, and you didn’t say why.
43
Then you came back, and it was like you did the same thing all over again!”
The cat had jumped off my lap when she
came in, and now it rubbed against her legs.
She picked it up and looked over at me again.
“You’ve changed,” she said.
I heard myself make a harsh noise,
somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Well,
duh! People do change in seven years, don’t
they! If you’d been around, you’d have
noticed!”
She gulped. Behind her glasses, her eyes
were the same brown color as mine. “Sarah, I
couldn’t be around. It was impossible.”
“But why?” I cried.
I saw her swallow. “Because … I know what
it’s like, growing up with that kind of mother.
I was scared of what I might do.”
I stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“I …” She looked down at the cat on her
lap. For a long time I thought she wasn’t going
to say anything else. Finally she said, “I was
afraid I’d hurt you.”
44
“Hurt me?” I didn’t know what she meant at first.
She nodded. “My mother did, when I was
growing up. She was always angry, always
shouting. I never knew why. And then she’d
be wonderful, and I never knew the reason for
that. She got worse and worse, and then one
day she attacked me. She had to go away for
treatment. That kept happening to her, all the
time I was a teenager. I was terrified of her.”
My throat felt dry. I couldn’t say anything.
That was just like I’d felt, with her, when I was
little.
She looked right at me. Her eyes were
bright with tears. “I shouldn’t have gotten
married, Sarah. I shouldn’t have had children.
I’m just like her. One day I heard myself
shouting at you … I can’t even remember why,
now. But I remember how scared you looked.
I wanted to hit you for it. I almost did. And I
knew I couldn’t trust myself any more. If I
stayed, I’d hit you, or – or worse. That’s why I
left.”
45
It felt like the world had crashed in on me.
“So it was all my fault, then,” I said. “You
wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t for me!”
“No!” She put the cat on the chair and
stood up. “It wasn’t you. It was me. Sarah, I
felt like I had a time bomb inside me! I heard
voices inside me, telling me things … I had to
get out; I didn’t want you to suffer the way I
did.”
“But you could have explained!” I yelled.
Tears ran down my cheeks, and I swiped
angrily at them. “You could have said
something – kept in touch – ”
She snorted. “What was I supposed to say?
‘I’m as crazy as my mom, so you’re better off
without me’?”
I felt cold with fear. “You’re not crazy,”
I whispered.
My mom smiled sadly. “Sarah, I spent over
five years in a mental hospital.”
Oh, my God! I thought. “But … but you
seem OK now,” I stammered.
46
She ran her hands over her arms. “Yes, I’m better, but I don’t … I don’t handle stress well.
I start thinking all kinds of things. They seem
so real to me, but …”
She took a deep breath. “Anyway, I – I
wouldn’t be able to get a job, or anything like
that. I’m on what’s called an outpatient
program. That’s the reason I’m in Midland –
it’s close to the hospital that runs it. They run
an art program … art is supposed to be good
for you.” She tried to smile. She looked down
at the plastic bag, and touched it with her foot.
“I’ve been spending most of my time there.”
Suddenly I felt almost sorry for her. She
looked so small and alone. “Well, you – you
must be getting better, right? Or else they
wouldn’t let you live here, or drive a car or
anything. Or – or have a cat.”
“I guess.” She sat down again, like she was
too tired to say anything else. The cat jumped
to the floor and started to wash itself.
“Mom?” I moved closer to her, and touched
her arm.
47
My mother looked startled. She put her hand over mine and squeezed it. Then she
quickly let go. “I think – I think you should go
now,” she said.
“Can I come and see you again?” I blurted
out. Where had that come from? I didn’t
know, but I knew that that was what I wanted.
She hadn’t been right to just leave us, but at
least I sort of understood it now. I didn’t want
to lose her again.
Mom didn’t answer. She looked at the
words I’d written on her wall. I’M GLAD YOU
LEFT!
“Are you sure you want to?” she said at
last. “I’m not much of a prize, Sarah.” She
looked so small, sitting there in that chair.
“That’s OK,” I said. “I’m not much of a
prize, either.”
She really smiled then, for the first time
since I’d seen her. It made her look young and
pretty. “That’s not true,” she said. “And I
don’t deserve you, but if you really want to
come and visit me sometimes … then OK.”
48
When I got off the bus that afternoon, I went to McDonald’s like last time. I bought a
bag of fries and sat on a bench outside eating
them. Did Dad know that Mom had been in a
; mental hospital? I ate the fries slowly as I
thought about it. I didn’t think he did. He
must have been just as confused as I was when
she left.
It must have been so awful for him.
School was out by then, and kids were
walking past. Some of them stared at me, but
this time I didn’t bother to glare back. They
could think what they wanted. I didn’t care
any more.
Then I saw Beth walk by. She looked at me
and quickly went on walking. I don’t know
why, but I waved to her. “Beth!” I shouted.
“Come here!”
She came slowly over to me. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” I remembered how mean I’d been to
her. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I didn’t
know how. I held out the bag of fries. “Here,” I
said. “D’you want one?”
49
“Thanks.” She sat down beside me and helped herself. She pushed back her limp
blonde hair and gave me a shy grin. “You
weren’t in school again today.”
“No.” I looked down at the bag of fries. I
wanted to tell her the truth. “I was with my
mom. She’s – she’s been sick.”
“Oh,” said Beth. She looked puzzled, but
she didn’t ask any questions. I was glad.
I wanted to talk about it … but not yet.
Anyway, I had to talk to Dad first. I needed to
tell him what had happened – everything I’d
done. There had been too many secrets
between us.
I reached for another fry, and then I
stopped. For some reason I wasn’t very
hungry. I closed the bag. I’d eat them later,
maybe.
I looked over at Beth again. I started to
ask her something, and then bit my lip. She
might tell me to take a flying leap. But I had
to ask her anyway. I took a deep breath.
“Hey, Beth … do you still want to be
partners for that English project?”
50
She looked surprised. “I thought you didn’t want to,” she said.
My face went hot. “Look, um … I was kind
of a jerk before. I’m sorry, OK?” My voice
sounded angry, but I wasn’t. I just felt so
stupid. But Beth didn’t seem to notice that I
had snapped at her.
“OK,” she said. She smiled at me. “We’ll be
partners, then. I’d really like that.”
I felt happy deep inside me, like it was my
birthday. I grinned back at her. “Yeah,” I said.
“I’d like it, too.”
51
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Crow Girl
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