Just Surviving (BWWM)

Chapter 7: The Bargain

Chapter 7: The Bargain

"Oh God, all these bills are just piling up..."

I'm sure she meant that only for herself to hear, but it was inevitable for me not to hear my mom's somber whisper.

As she sat on the dining room table calculating every aspect of our finances, I was settled on the living room couch, just a room across, finishing up some homework for my AP courses. However, my concentration eluded me once those words were spoken. By the way my mom was running her fingers through her curly, untamed hair and sighing heavily, she was clearly befuddled.

Usually I was the one who handled all of our bills and paperwork, which I sometimes sensed made her feel guilty. She practically shoved me away from the stacks of paperwork that signified our family's monetary burdens. Still, I wouldn't mind, financial literacy has certainly always been my mother's strongest adversary. It couldn't be helped.

"Ma come on, just let me handle all of that paperwork for a sec? I've already told you I don't mind," I speak up.

She groaned. "What type of parent would I be if I let my own child handle the duties solely meant for the adult to take care of?"

I scoff. "Umm, I think you're forgetting the fact that I am an adult. I mean hello, 21-year-old, full grown woman just sitting here ready to take on some responsibility!" I tease to lighten her mood, if only a little.

My mom chuckles, shaking her head at my borderline smart ass humor. She rose up from her chair in order to allow me to be in her place.

"You have way too many responsibilities as it is, Mía-baby." I grabbed the calculator in one hand and the electricity bill in the other. "You rarely ever go out to have fun. If only things were different, maybe you wouldn't have to deal with such encumberances."

I shook my head. "Hey, hey, don't even talk like that, ma! I'm fine. You always think that just because people my age choose to go to crazy parties, get drunk, and the like, the same would go for me. I'm not the type of individual who would enjoy that kind of atmosphere anyway."

Mom plopped into the seat next to me, watching me through thoughtful, sympathy-ridden eyes. "But most people wouldn't prefer working two jobs, going to school, and constantly paying visits to the hospital at such a young age. It's just too much I'm putting you thro-ugh," her voice cracked. Her onset tears were coming.

"Don't start now, mom," I quickly left the vortex of chaos on the table alone and sought to comfort her.

"S-Sofia...w-won't even crack a sm-ile anymore...Oh, my poor baby really los-lost her arm..." she cried, hiccups inebriating her sobs occasionally.

It's true, Sofia had to get an operation, and unfortunately it resulted in her arm getting amputated. Doctors told us that it was the only way. We thought that things would get better afterwards, that this procedure would end her battle. Turns out the cancer had spread to her lungs and leg, which was, according to doctors, an attack made all too quickly by Mother Nature. I myself found the statement to be befitting, since I understood very well the severity of my little sister's condition.

The spread truly was all too quick, but my faith never deterred. Sofia would get better, all that was needed was some more time and hard work; I was willing to give it that. Even as my mom continued to breakdown in my arms, I knew it was out of pain and stress, she wasn't willing to give up either because deep down her faith was as strong as ever.

With that taken into consideration, there was really no need to accept Kostas' stupid bargain then.

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