When Family Sells Your Soul

chloroform, the rough burlap sack over my head, and my mother' s voice, as clear as a

g, the final, brutal silence i

crying. She was complaining to my uncle Rick. "Kevin needed a start in life," she' d said, her voice laced with rig

llege fund, my future, my body, a

and the gentle hum of medical equipment, I knew where

ired face was explaining the diagnosis. Chronic kidney disease. End-stage. She needed dial

ance began

tears, found mine. "I can't. We don't have the money. My son, Kevin... he has his whole fut

tive weight. "I'll just... I'll let nature t

d thrown myself at her feet, sobbing, promising to

me, I s

er bed, my face a

y, M

bs hitched. The social

continued, my voice even. "You've always sacrificed so

orker. "My mother has made her c

of the monitor. Brenda stared at me, her jaw slack, the tears forgotten

dn't g