Forbidden Diagnosis, Some Wounds Medicine Can't Heal

Anya:

The morning was like any other, but somehow the city felt still. Too still. Like it was holding its breath with me.

It could be any day now, in fact any hour or minute.

Oh Lord! I was so nervous. I felt like my heart will fail due to overload. Technically, a little tachycardia won't kill me.

It's just nerves and I have always had a love-hate relationship with anxiety, especially on the days when something big is about to go down.

Well, nothing could be bigger than the news I was waiting for.

One decision from the selection committee could change my life forever. Take me one step closer to my dreams or back to my hometown. Where I'll be forced to live under my mom's roof and meet Chad and have his kids.

Chad, her childhood best friend's son. Too thin and tall for his big head with greasy hair and sweaty hands. That crocked nose and too big for his face, front teeth.

I shudder at the thought, then remember my mom's still on the line.

We were having our morning ritual call. She enforced this rule when I was leaving for college, no matter what I'd always call her first thing in the morning. And I have been following this rule like a religious obligation.

Like me she's an early riser too. And to be honest, I don't really mind the calls or her overbearing love.

After all, she's all I have.

I love her to the bones, but she can be a bit much sometimes.

Like when she starts talking about Chad, or how our poor old Mrs Hensley left her pet goat whiskey loose, again, and she wandered to my mom's garden, destroying her roses, again.

My mother loves nothing more in this entire universe than her rose garden. Okay, maybe I come a close second or maybe third after her roses and knitting.

I was drifting again. Stop it Anya. I force myself to come back to the present and try to remember what my mom was actually saying.

Was she talking about Chad again? Or was it her rose garden? Shit!! I totally zoned out there...

"Anya? Are you there, Sweetie?" My mom's voice cuts my train of random thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'm listening." My voice betrays me, and it doesn't go unnoticed by mommy dearest.

"No, you're not." She states it like a fact and that it is.

I concede easily. "Sorry mom! I was a little distracted. It's just nerves. I'm expecting a response from Ashbourne Memorial any day now, and you know how much it means to me and how hard I have worked. I really hope I get the spot," I tell her honestly.

My mom has always been one of my best friends and confidant.

It ought to happen when your father leaves after hearing about your arrival and never looks back.

I have never met the sperm donor