Love Is Like Dead Ashes

I had just walked in with Mom's urn when Frank burst out of the kitchen.

He barked, "Grab your stuff and get out. I've already burned all your mom's things.

And keep that bitch's urn out of my place. Put it anywhere else."

Frank's face was twisted with cruelty. I knew he didn't pretend to care about Mom anymore, but his ugliness still shocked me.

"Why the hell would you burn my mom's things?" I shot back.

"She's dead. Her stuff just brings bad vibes," a sharp voice cut in.

There was Stephanie Wilson, lounging on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table, tossing nutshells onto the floor.

Frank stormed over, fuming. "Jessica, just because you're grown doesn't mean you can sass me. I'm still your dad. You and your bitch of a mother are both a pain in the ass."

Stephanie piped up, "Frank, chill. People might think I'm the bad guy here. After all, Matilda was your wife. Just let her urn stay."

Frank's face softened instantly. "Listen, Jessica. Stephanie's the reason you're allowed in here today. Otherwise, you'd be out for good."

I felt utterly drained. It seemed like I had used up all my strength today. The tumor in my lungs was taking its toll. I was gasping for breath just from climbing the stairs.

"Whatever. Just let Mom rest in peace today," I thought.

I placed Mom's urn on the living room windowsill, the only spot bathed in sunlight.

Stephanie swaggered over and said, "Not there. Put it in the bathroom. What if my friends see it here and freak out?"

Frank leaned out from the kitchen. "Do what Stephanie says, or I swear I'll dump your mom's ashes down the drain tonight."

I closed my eyes for a moment. Watching Stephanie cozy up to Frank made me nauseous.

I vomited right on Stephanie's feet.

Furious, Frank grabbed a spatula and smacked me on the head. "Brat, where the hell do you think you're puking? You're as stupid as your mother. She cooked herself to death, stupid as a pig."

I threw up everything I'd eaten the night before.

A dark thought crossed my mind, "It would be perfect if I just died here. Then they'd wake up to find my body on the floor, discolored with livor mortis. That should disgust them for a while."

"Frank, if there's a hell, you're definitely going there if you place Mom's ashes in the bathroom," I said.

Frank looked genuinely scared for a second. He paused, then turned to Stephanie, pleading with his eyes.

Stephanie glared at him with disgust. "Useless. You promised everything would be okay once Matilda was out of the picture."

"Stephanie, it's just an urn. I'll cover it with a cardboard box. We can't risk bad luck for you and the baby because of her," Frank replied.

Stephanie, hand on her belly, slumped back onto the couch. "Seriously, Matilda was such a bitch. Can't even let us be after she's dead."

That was when I caught on that Stephanie was pregnant. No wonder Frank was fawning over her. I didn't bother to find out how far along she was.

After all, Mom was dead, the only person who ever really cared for Frank. As for me, I couldn't care less about him. I was dying too.

I set Mom's urn down properly. Even though Frank covered it with a box, it beat the bathroom.

When I went back to my room, I found Frank had turned it into a game room. My wardrobe and bookshelf were gone. The fold-up bed where I'd spent so many years was shoved into a corner, its mattress dirty and yellowing.

The only clean item was my bedsheet, neatly folded in a battered box along with my diploma and certificates.

This was Mom's work, probably the only thing she could manage for me.

Though her heart belonged to Frank, this gesture meant a lot.

I burned all the photos of me and Mom, leaving only two individual ones for remembrance.

I was dying, after all.

I stayed in my room for days. The pain in my body worsened, especially in my lower abdomen.

I guessed the cancer had spread, maybe to my liver, or perhaps to a bone.

I couldn't bother with that anymore. I was too close to dying.

One day, I lay down to sleep as usual. Stephanie's soft sobs drifted in from outside. It had been a regular sound lately, likely her dealing with morning sickness. I expected it would stop soon, but just then my bedroom door flew open.