Despite being a girl, I’ve always liked video games with the
bright colors, challenges, stories, and heroes.
I used to prefer books as I had more imaginary freedom over the characters and scenery until I learned my mom was screaming for him to stop.
But really, the sound effects in video games are amazing. I feel like I’m my character!
Moreover, the music for this game makes me feel like I really can save the world.
If I can save their world, then why can’t I save ours?
I’ll study well, make a vaccine, save endangered wildlife from extinction, solve world hunger.
I want to be a nameless hero just like my favorite characters who do it simply out of responsibility instead of fame or fortune.
If I just leave my bedroom… Can I really do anything
if I can’t even save my mom from one man?
"Save the galaxy by…" My character chimes. No! I’ll do it this time.
I’m done being a little kid. I’ll save her. But how?
No book video game or class has taught me how to save my mom.
The feelings are returning now. Dread, agony, and disgust materializes as I recognize my face in the mirror.
Silence. There is no character theme if I disregard the sound of my mom crying. Instead, I observe the boring figure in the mirror with no sharp angles or colors.
He left when I was deep within the pool of self-loathing, claiming he’d get himself something to eat as us women haven’t prepared food for weeks, shelves bare.
When I leave my room for the first time in days, my mom greets me with a smile, pretending like she wasn’t just crying. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Sweetheart,” she says, voice wavering. I can smell him on her. “Do you mind making him food to eat?” “No.” I reply as I peer into the empty cupboards.