Mom, Please Love Me
Just a crudely drawn picture I'd secretly hidden away.
The drawing showed four little stick figures holding hands.
Dad, Mom, Alice—and in the corner, the smallest one: me.
Everyone had big, smiling faces.
On the back, in my childish handwriting, was a single line: "Mom, please smile."
At that moment, my mother lost it completely. She clutched that drawing to her chest and broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.
The crushing weight of guilt and doubt nearly destroyed her.
The next morning, while Alice was still asleep, my mother snuck into Alice's room and took her toothbrush.