My father texted me, ‘To us, you’re already dead,’ and I only replied,

then. Not fully, but enough.

They hadn’t wanted me.

They had taken me anyway.

Not out of love.

Out of entitlement.

Out of embarrassment.

Out of the need to come home with a baby because people in their circle had already been told they were becoming parents.

And then, when I grew into someone too serious, too observant, too unlike them, they punished me for continue reading …