Monthly Archives: April 2013

Macy VIII

By: Mia Hazlett
4/11/13

My grandmother’s past was becoming my present. I wanted to consume every letter at once as though they were an enticing book, but each letter set heaviness in my heart with each word. It was only curiosity to get to know whom my grandmother was, which pushed me to finish each sentence.

Now I sat in front of her fifth envelope. It’s funny when someone is given so much power in a family, you just believe in their greatness, whether you like them or not. Glancing over her barely legible four letters I had read, I realized my grandmother’s weakness, her education. It never occurred to me she lacked an education. But maybe that is what made the letters so heart wrenching to read. She was so desperate to tell her story but she barely knew the words to express her years of misery.

Wen you wit a babee in you, boy you don’t feel reel nise. You don’t feel nise a tall. Macy, I dun hated dat der babee in me cuz my momma hated me cuz a dat babee in me. Wazn’t nuttin I cud do rite. She jus hated me.

But she dun luvved me sister. Me sister she wuznt like me. Well she didnt look like me. She wuz reel reel witelike. She cudda dun passd fur a wite persun if she want. But jus cuz moma dun hated me, me sister she tuk care ov me reel well. You see she dun new wut had happened in dem woods wit dem boyz dat dun killed our bruthers. She dun got da wurse of wut dem boyz did. Doctur dun sed she wud never have no babees. It wuz weeks befur she cud even walk after it dun happend.

But it don’t matter nun. I iz gonna hav me a babee and my sister, she reel happee fur me, even tho my moma want us to die. Yup, my moma told me she hope us both die fo we bring hur mo bad luk. She don’t want no darkee babee in hur house. She sed I wuz a bad gurl and it wuz my falt that boy dun dis wit me. I wuz alwayz wearin dem tite cloze round him.

Macy, when yur own moma hate you dat much, you lern to hate yurself too. And when you iz only but 12 yeerz old all you want iz yur moma to luv you. So 1 day I dun take a big rock and put it on da ground and dun fell belly furst on it. I dun nocked da air right out ov myself. It dun hurt reel bad. Sister came reel fast, but befor she culd stop me, I dun catched my breath and did it another. Dis 1 hurt me somethin reel bad and I woke up in the house with the docter man there.

Moma dun stud in da door and she dun hated me. I cud see it in her eyez. She dun hated me somthin bad. To dis day Macy I don’t no why. I dun killd my baby so we won’t bring hur no bad luck. Yes Macy, I dun killd my baby fur my moma and she still hated me.

Leave a comment

Filed under daughters, death, fiction, Macy, racism, sisterhood

In My Head – Part II

By: Mia Hazlett
4/11/13

Dear Diary,

I haven’t seen my dad in two weeks.  I think my parents are going to get a divorce.  My friend Sara at school and another boy Philip, their parents are divorced.  I know a whole bunch of other kids whose parents never even got married.

I miss my dad.  I wish he was here or that I could just see him.  He called a couple of times, but that’s not the same.  He says he and my mommy are just taking a little break right now.  I guess kinda like me and my friend Sara got in a fight that one time and we didn’t talk to each other for three whole days.  We didn’t even sit with each other at lunch or on the bus.  That was the worst fight in the whole world.

But this is worse than three days.  It has been two weeks and one day.  I’ve been marking it on my calendar.  I heard my mother on the phone the other day saying she was so happy he was gone.  I don’t want her to be happy he’s gone.  I want her to miss him like I do.  If she doesn’t miss him than he won’t come back and live with us or maybe to even see us.

I heard my mother praying the other night for peace.  I don’t know what that means, but she sure has been happy.  She was in the kitchen the other day making dinner and she was singing and dancing.  A long time ago before my sister was born, she used to do that when she was cooking, but I haven’t seen her like that in like forever.

Then the other night, we stayed up until like 11 watching a movie.  She made us popcorn and not even the whole night did she talk on her phone.  Not once.  Not even to text.  But when she went to the bathroom I looked at her phone.  It was Daddy saying he was sorry and he loved her.

I hope she wrote him back later.  I mean he was saying sorry.  You’re supposed to make everything ok if someone says they are sorry.  But I don’t know if I want her to be sad again.  It has been really fun doing stuff with my mom since she’s been happy.  I just wish I could see my dad too.

From – Me

© Copyright 2013, Mia L. Hazlett

Leave a comment

Filed under children, daughters, divorce, family, fiction, In My Head, marriage, parents