99 Ways to Save a Life

“Leah, why are you so quiet?” Erin, our group mentor asked me. I broke out of my shell and glanced toward her, shockingly, I woke from a lost thought. Her big brown eyes stared through me, as if I was made from glass and my only reaction was a shrug of my tired shoulders. Politely she smiled and waited, pushing up her glasses, while the group sat quietly waiting with her. I bit my bottom lip, slowly taking a deep breath. I fixed my position in the chair, which was facing everyone and replied with my story for the day.

Slamming doors, a sound that wasn't too familiar in a house that used to be made of peace, love and friendship.

“No! I'm not going,” I screamed through the thickness of my bedroom door, leaning against the tarnish wood, forcing myself to lock my mother out of my mind and life.

“You need help, bebé,” her voice cracked. “And there's this place, for teens like you.”

I covered my ears blocking her voice inside my head. I didn't want to hear her lies, or her screaming anymore. The tears burned as they glided down my dry cheeks. After a couple of minutes the banging had stopped. My head risen back up from between my legs and for a second, my life shined on my face as if it was reflecting the sun.

I raced over and searched underneath my bed for a photo book. The one I created two years ago and glimpsed through it, remembering that I had a beautiful life once. I was happy with where my life was going and now look at me. I couldn't even operate with how my life worked anymore.

Dinnertime was the only time I left my room. I hated my mother so much I. . . I couldn't even look at her.

I licked my lips forcing myself not to cry from my words.

“Why did you hate your mother?” Erin uttered.

I finished my story the best I could.

I didn't take one bite of my food. I stopped eating my mother's cooking a long time ago. I was sitting across from a broken, dirty face, forcing myself not to look up every so often. I gazed over to the chair that now remained empty next to me, and suddenly I felt sick to my stomach in a sad way.

“Leah, I know I haven't been a good mother to you,” she paused, cringing in her seat. “¿Dónde me equivoqué con usted?

“Where did you go wrong with me?” I repeated snapping, pounding my fists onto the table causing the woman to jump. “You went wrong with me when you let all your drug buddies come over here knowing that your child is home – and not caring! You went wrong with me when. . .when the only thing I have left in the world, disgustingly tares her insides up from snorting coke every day. Don't pretend I'm the only one with the problem, mama!”

“She's the reason I started doing drugs,” I said in a whisper, looking away from my mentor's beloved face and accidentally catching a frame of Matt's face.

“Okay group, I think that's all for today, we'll pick up again tomorrow,” she yelled, but wasn't completely heard due to chairs scrapping against the tile floor. I lingered in my chair watching all these teens of every shape, size and color walk away, besides one.

“Leah.” I ascertain a hand wave amongst the crowd. I half smiled seeing a live, round face walking up toward me smiling, as his expressive eyes met mine.

Anansi, one of my group members.