Joanna Angeletos

Safe Haven

Mama got her monthly courses again today. Each time I close my eyes, even so much as to blink, the image of Papa striking her wields itself more and more potent. Her jarring wails persist to poison my ears. At times I wonder whether I too have succumb to Papa’s indoctrination that this is proprietary, just as Mama has. The disappointment runs just as deep through her soul as it does Papa’s, if not deeper. Her obsession with producing a male heir consumes her, leaves her sleepless, impotent. I know she loves us, but often Eugenia, Patrice, Clementine, Margaret and I, Angelica, occupy their conceptions of failure and futility. It will soon be my time to become a debutante, be courted, and eventually marry. What will become of me if I am to face the same fate as Mama? Desperation? Misery? Mental affliction? I fear my mother’s demons.