It was her decision and after seeing her so sick she couldn’t move, I understood that decision. Even though selfish parts of me wanted to scream for her to get her ass to the doctor and accept any treatment they offered, the parts of me that understood sickness and pain prayed nightly for her to find peace.

In the future, when my depression gets the best of me, I’ll tell my story of the years I spent being molested by one of the very people who was supposed to protect me. I’ll tell a high-priced therapist all my dirty secrets and I’ll beg for the drugs that will take my memories away. When that day comes, I’ll be asked why I never told anyone. The doctor will ask me why I didn’t ask for help or run to my mother.

The answer will always been the same. I wanted my mom to live a happy life in her final days. She was dying; everyone in our home knew that, including the live-in nurse that now took care of her. Slowly but surely, she was dying. What kind of person would I be to tell her something so devastating so close to her death? It would take a heartless person to do that.

So instead, I kept it locked in, knowing one day, once Mom is gone and Sydney is safely sent away to college, I’ll be able to run away and leave it all behind.

“Hey, Mom,” I whispered into the dark room where she lived. “Feel like some company?”

A thin ray of light cut across the musty room and landed on my mom’s sunken cheeks. I watched as a tiny smile sucked the energy from her eyes.

“Of course I am. Get your butts in here,” she rasped.

Syd and I climbed up in bed with her and snuggled up close. I wrapped my fingers around hers. I didn’t miss how thin her skin felt. It was as if the thin barrier that kept her together was slowly dissolving.

I looked over at Syd and she attempted to smile at me. It was a sad smile, one that was for show only. We both knew it could be any time now and moments like this were priceless.

“So, let’s talk girl talk,” Mom said. Her words were breathless and I appreciated her effort.

She began to softly pet my hand with hers and I closed my eyes and took it in.

Syd and I did most of the talking. At one point we even earned a good laugh from her when Syd proceeded to tell her about some run-in at school with a girl and a fake spider. We stayed and talked until it was clear Mom was exhausted.

That night Sydney slept in my room. When Dad came to my door, he simply said goodnight to us and went back to his room.

I skipped the gym and extracurricular activities that week since our maid, Lynn, was off for the week. I felt fine staying out late with her around since she stayed up so late and her room was next to Syd’s. With her being off on vacation, I couldn’t take any chances of him going to Syd’s room while I wasn’t there. Needless to say, I spent more time at home than I wanted to, but it was worth it if it meant protecting my little sister.

Soon it was Friday, and Megan was planning her outfit for our night out at The Pit. I hated that she was so damn hardheaded about going to that stupid place. Her going meant I had to go back. There was no way I could let her go alone. Syd was spending the weekend with a friend so I could afford to get out of the house. After being stuck there after school all week, I needed it. Like I said before, I’d be more careful. I knew what I was getting into this time.

“What do you think of this?” Megan said as she held up a scrap of hot-pink lace.

“What the hell is it?” I asked.

“It’s a halter-top. It’s going to look freaking hot on me.” She held it up to her chest and it looked like it wouldn’t even cover one boob, much less two.

“Are you sure it’s not too small?”

“Uh, that’s kind of the point. Here, you try this one on.” She handed me another piece of tiny material, except this one was black.

I help it up to my crotch since it looked like a tiny pair of panties and that earned a laugh from Megan.

“Pay, it’s a top. Here, this is how you put it on.”

She then began to dress me. She didn’t stop at the top. Soon, I was wearing a tight pair of skinny jeans that barely covered my ass and black boots that went up my calves. Usually, I wouldn’t be caught dead in anything of the sort, but since I knew I’d stand out less this way, I was all for it. I even allowed her to sit me down and put some makeup on my face and curl my hair.

When I looked in the mirror again I was looking at a different girl. It wasn’t me; it was a rocker chick from The Pit, minus the tats and piercings. There was black liner around my blue eyes that made them pop, big hoop earrings in my ears, and my hair hung around my cheeks in a mass of platinum curls.