Maybe I Wish You Had Aborted Me, Too

Maybe I Wish You Had Aborted Me, Too

By Stella Juliana Bonifazi

Do you remember Halloween, 2008? I told you I wanted to be a pirate. You went to four thrift stores and found me striped pants, black boots with big silver buckles, and a puffy white shirt. You even built me my own sword. But then all the other girls were going as princesses, so I changed my mind. On October 30th you took me to the Halloween store, you know the one that opens every October and then disappears a couple of days into November like it never happened. The line was going out the door. I tried on a blue dress with sequins, a pink one with gold ribbons, a green one that came in two pieces. I didn’t like any of them and the store was going to close soon. You were being patient with me, though maybe I didn’t deserve it. I was being stubborn. You made me a perfectly good costume, but I wasn’t grateful. You would never have had to do this for that boy you gave away on Christmas before I was born. We left the store empty-handed. As you started the car you put in the mixtape I made you for Mother’s Day. Your head turned around to back out of the parking spot and you told me you almost aborted me when you found out you were pregnant. You drove us back to the apartment, singing along to Joni Mitchell. Halloween was on a school day that year so we were allowed to wear our costumes to class. I came dressed in the striped pants, black boots, puffy white shirt, and the red tie you wrapped around my head. I couldn’t bring the sword you made me and my teacher said the eyepatch was too distracting. All the girls in my class were in various shades of glitter and I could hear them giggling at me and could feel their pointing. You forgot to pick me up. Lindsey’s mom had to take me trick or treating and I got a B- on my math test that day.