The Day I Took My Money Back

Synopsis

At dinner, my father said it for the eleventh time—he wished I'd never been born. "I'd be better off with a dog. At least a dog knows how to guard the house," he said. The rest of the table joined in the laughter. Not one person said a word in my defense. I set down my bowl, turned, and walked to my room to pack my things. My movements were calm, practiced, like I'd rehearsed this scene a thousand times. After all these years, I'd grown used to their cold stares. And they'd grown used to the fact that I was the one paying for everything—the mortgage, the utilities, the old folks' medicine. The next morning, my mom did what she always did—checked the card I'd been putting money into. "There's only 40 cents left?! Where's the money! Where's my money?!"