More Than Anything Read Online Free PDF Page A

just don’t want you to die. You don’t have to, Sarah.” It’s the first time I’ve heard him use her name, and the way he says it makes it sound important.
    “I’m going to sleep now. Have a nice life, you bastard.”
    He looks over at me and smiles that same sad smile, and shrugs. “I’ll leave you with your daughter. You can catch up. It’s been a while.”
    Her eyes are clamped shut, as if she can erase the world if she doesn’t acknowledge it. He rises and goes to the door. “Good luck, Sarah. I hope you pull through,” he says, and then he’s gone.
    Leaving me alone with the woman who let Ralph use me for a punching bag. Who didn’t care whether I lived or died. Who still doesn’t.
    I try to rise above the negative thoughts, but it’s hard. Eventually she opens one eye and peers at me with annoyance.
    “Still here?”
    “I flew all the way from New York to see you, Mom.”
    “New York! Well, you should have stayed there. This is nothing.”
    “No, it isn’t. The doctors say you almost died…and that if you drink again, it’ll be like putting a gun to your head.”
    “They always say that. They love to exaggerate.”
    “Mom, they’re not kidding. You have to stop. Do something else. Take pills. Smoke. Please. I’m begging you. Don’t drink anymore,” I say, and my voice cracks. I hate how weak and clingy I sound.
    “You deal with your own life. Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do. Nobody tells me what I can do. Nobody, do you understand?” Flecks of spittle arc from her mouth as she sprays venom at me, and I’m reminded of my own attitude. I’m horrified when I see myself in her, especially the rebellion even when being asked to do something for my own good. It’s like a blinding light shined on me, realization striking even before she finishes.
    Of course I’m like her. She raised me. I learned everything I know, everything that I am, from watching her while growing up. For better…and for worse.
    Maybe just understanding that is enough. I hope so. The woman in the bed seems to have no regard for herself or those around her, not even those who love her. Her only love is a bottle, and that love is killing her, robbing her of her life.
    I try to keep my voice even. “I am telling you what to do, Mom. I’m asking you not to kill yourself.”
    She turns her head away and closes her eyes. “This discussion is over. Go away.”
    I sit, numb, trying to understand what could possibly motivate her to be so terrible a human being, and realize that I’ll never know what’s going on in her head. I’d never allow my child to be mistreated, never choose addiction over my baby, and certainly never let a shitgrub like Ralph near her. But she doesn’t care. I can see it. All she wants is to be discharged, so she can take another run at the bottle that’s brought so much misery into all our lives.
    A few minutes later I stand, my legs shaky, a sense of disbelief running through me at how dismissive and uncaring she is. I see her for what she’s become, but I try to remember her when things were better, before she turned into…this.
    I can’t.
    I’m almost to the door when Ralph turns the corner and stops, face to face with me. The sneer is instant, and his eyes narrow to slits.
    “Well, look who we have here. Miss Bitch. Too good for the rest of us. Got any smart-ass comments for me now that your loser dad isn’t around to protect you?”
    “Ralph, I’m not in your life anymore. Leave it at that.”
    “And what if I don’t feel like it? You going to make me? You had all kinds of backtalk for me yesterday, didn’t you? What’s wrong? Not so brave now, are you?”
    “Ralph, so help me, if you lay a finger on me, I’ll scream so loud it’ll bring every nurse and cop for a mile around. You’re not going to get away with your usual shit, do you understand?” My voice sounds ten times stronger than I feel, and I’m surprised.
    So’s Ralph, at least for a second, and