"Mom, I'm going to my appointment with Dr. Lancaster," Amaris called to her mother.

"Okay."

"I'm taking my truck."

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yes, now go before you're late."

Amaris jumped in her truck, turned on the radio and drove to her therapist's office. Amaris sat down in the chair across from Dr. Lancaster.

"So, Amaris, how have you been?"

Amaris fidgeted with her hands and looked out the window, thinking about the past few days. She thought the days of her mom being in and out of the hospital were over, but her mom would probably need to see a doctor more often now.

Amaris remembered the first time she realized her mom was sick. She came home from school one day and her father left a note on the fridge telling her they had to go to the hospital and he'd be home later. Her mom didn't come back home for three weeks and when she finally did, she came back with an oxygen tank that she had to use for a year.

"Amaris, what's on your mind?" asked the doctor, after sitting in silence for twenty minutes.

"My mother," Amaris said, returning her gaze to the window.

"How is your mother doing? I haven't seen her in a while."

"She had a stroke earlier this week, but the doctor said that she won't have any lasting damage."

"And how are you coping with this?"

Amaris turned towards the doctor, wondering why the doctor continued seeing her even when she spent most of the time daydreaming out of the window.

The doctor reminded Amaris of her father. He always knew when something was bothering her and was always so patient, waiting for her to tell him what's wrong. When she broke up with Eddie in seventh grade, her dad knew something was wrong. When he picked her up from school that day, he drove to Coldstone and got her the biggest chocolate ice cream they had and when they got home, they had a Daddy-daughter day watching Disney movies and eating popcorn. When they were watching the Little Mermaid, she started crying and told her dad all about the no-good Eddie Joe who broke up with her. Her dad just hugged her and let her get it all out, telling her that she was the most wonderful girl and if Eddie Joe didnt see that then he didnt deserve her. Then, he added that she was too young for a boyfriend and boys had cooties anyway.

Slowly, tears made their way on to Amaris' face.

"Amaris, whats wrong?" asked the doctor, trying to hide her shock, however, her eyebrows betrayed her rising slightly.

"I miss my dad," she said. "He always knew what to do. He always took care of me. He took care of all of us, especially Mom when she got sick. Now, its just me trying to take care of everybody."

"Why do you feel like it's your responsibility to take care of everyone?" asked Dr. Lancaster.

"Because who else is going to do it? Who is going to take care of my mom when she's sick and can't get out of bed? Who is going to take care of my sister and help her with her homework when my mom is like that? Who is going to make sure everyone eats and the fridge is full? My dad is dead and I couldn't save him, but I can make sure I take care of my family now."

"Fuck, why am I even telling you this," Amaris mumbled.

"Amaris, you carry so much responsibility on your shoulders and youre only eighteen."

"I have to! If I don't, who the hell else will? I wasn't ready three months ago. I didn't want to watch my mom die. I didn't want to be responsible for my sister. But, that choice was taken from me the moment my father died. Hell, I even tried to kill myself; give the responsibility to someone else. But, I'm still here, my mom's still dying, and I'm still the only person my sister has left to take care of her."

Amaris looked down at her phone. It vibrated alerting her that it was 10:45 am.

"Well, it looks like our time is up," Amaris said, grabbing her bag and standing up.

"Amaris, we really made a lot of progress today, but hopefully we can pick up from here next time, yeah?"

"I'll think about it," said Amaris, walking out of the door. "But, probably not. Youre still nothing but my mandated shrink and I still don't need your help."

The Burden of my FatherWhere stories live. Discover now