The Bleeder
My mom always protects me. Sometimes it seems like she’s always protecting me. The other kids have more freedom than me. I see them running around the playground, and I feel like it’s not fair that I can’t play with them. Why do I always have to sit on the bench?
The other boys make fun of me because Mom makes me wear knee pads and a bracelet with a snake going around a pole. “Bracelets are for girls” is one of the things they say. I try to tell Mom what the boys say, but she never really listens. The girls don’t seem to care about the bracelet, but they still don’t want to be my friend. Why am I so lonely?
The bus usually takes me home, and Mom is waiting for me at the door. She always looks at my whole body to check for funny spots. She says she does it because “Dad had funny spots like that, and then he went away.” The other moms and dads come out to hug their kids. Why doesn’t my mom hug me like that?
But today was different. Mom picked me up from school herself. When she does that, it usually means we’re going to see the special man. She says he’s called a hema… something. He and Mom talk about me a lot, mostly about something called clotting.
He seems like he cares about me, even though he tells her I’m getting worse. I don’t know what that means. I wonder what an infusion is? The only thing I know about iron is Iron Man.
Sometimes my mom cries for no reason. Am I the problem? She says it’s not me, but she’s always talking about me. I wonder if it’s because of what the special man said. She always cries after she talks to him. Is he mean to my mom?
I eat dinner and go to bed. My mom always makes me take these massive pills. My throat doesn’t like how big they are. Sometimes I feel nervous when I swallow them.
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I always have to tell Mom if there’s any red on my toothbrush. I wonder why. Is it because the special man told her to check?
I woke up today and had an idea. But I can’t tell Mom. She’ll get sad. I need to keep Mom happy, because the last time I made her sad, I had to go to Grandma’s for three days. Mom went to the hospital, but she wasn’t hurt. Grandma said she was fighting demons. That sounds cool!
Recess at school comes around, and I’m going to do my plan. I’m going to play on the playground. Walking on the red steps makes me feel good. I feel like a boy!
My mom was wrong; this isn’t bad.
My teacher is yelling for me to get down, and I think about saying what my mom used to yell at my cousin when we played: “No, you idiot! Stop!” It almost makes me laugh.
“Yeah, get off, bleeder!” a boy yells behind me. I feel him push me. Then I’m falling.
I’m on the ground and I feel weird and tired. Every adult is gathered around me, and some are yelling. Am I going like Dad did? Last night I heard Mom in her room saying that one day I could go see him. I want to see Dad. But these people won’t let me.
I hope I don’t make Mommy sad, but…
I think I’m going to go to sleep.
