"Dan!" "Dan!"
That was my mother calling me.
But I refused to answer.
I know what she wants and I refuse to give it to her. She wants her stash. At least, without her stash she can remember she has a son. Mother has never been conscious enough to take care of me her son in my entire 12 years.
The only time she is awake enough is when those men visit her. Oh how I dread those moments. The men hardly take notice of me except when they need me to get them cigarettes or lighters or when they need to stub out the ash from the cigarettes or Indian hemps. They never use the ash tray. My body bear the burns. These days dread pool in my belly. The way they look at me, I know something worse than the cigarette burn will happen to me and my mother will be too high to do something.
But right now my mother needs her stash of cocaine.
After a while, she stopped calling me. I snuck out of the kitchen cupboard and I saw her inhaling another. My shoulders stoop in defeat. I thought I found all the hiding places.
What she said next when she saw me killed something inside me.
"Your father never wanted you or who I wanted to be your father never wanted you and I got stuck with you. I don't know why the pills didn't work. I was scared of those quack doctors if not I wouldn't be stuck with you. My customers are reducing because I am stuck with a child I don't want. Leave my life and I will be glad."
I have always wished that my mother's insensitivity was because of the hard drugs not because she didn't want me. But now I know the truth. I have to leave. To where? I know not but anywhere is better than this dump. Out of anger, I packed the little I had and entered the street.
What I didn't know was that, that day I would have been raped by my mother's customer. She knew because that was the price she was to pay to get money for her booze. She needed to do one thing for me so she sent me away and saved my hide.
But I am just 12 in the streets at the mercy of the streets.
Goodbye mom.
-victoria Ukpaka