CADEN
That same day, after Mad had returned, freshly showered and dressed in a pink loose-knit sweater, she had my leg on her thighs, massaging tenderly.
Martha, on the other hand, was informing us about my progress, believing I might be discharged soon.
She babbled about transferring schools, mentioned the possibility of moving back, and even entertained the idea of seeking vengeance on whoever was responsible. Somehow, I believed she might mean it.
Martha is a nice person; Mad is lucky to have her as a mother.
My mother, if alive, must have probably forgotten about me, let alone know I was on a hospital bed right now.
But with these two women around, I was at ease and even grateful for life. Then, Dad chose to butcher the harmony in the space and walked in, ceasing the happiness
