Dear Ana: A Novel

Dear Ana,

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?”

The phone slipped through my fingers and onto the floor.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” she repeated louder.

My world stood still. All the pain vanished as my focus zeroed in on the fact that I had just called the police. I had dreamt about doing this so many times, but never in a million years thought that I actually would.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

The only sound in the room was your pulse vibrating off the walls around me, and my breath coming out in short bursts. I didn’t know if that was because Mikhail permanently destroyed my windpipes with his fingers, or because I didn’t want her to hear me on the other end.

“Maya?” Mama banged on the door. “Come out please.”

I wanted to tell her to be quiet so the officer wouldn’t hear her, but I couldn’t open my mouth to speak.

“Are you in danger?” the lady asked.

I didn’t know, was I in danger? I assumed my mom was okay since she could talk and walk, and I couldn’t hear any movement from upstairs.

“Listen to me, we’re tracking your location right now. Help is on the way, okay?”

“No, wait!” I blurted into the phone.

“Maya?” Mama said through the door.

“Hello?” the lady said through the phone.

There were too many people talking to me at once, and I was getting confused. I forced myself to take a deep and steady breath and brought the phone up to my lips.

“I’m so sorry, I dialed by mistake,” I told her calmly. My mom was quiet behind the door.

“Are you in danger?”

“No, no,” I said quickly. “I’m not in danger. I heard some noise and called without thinking. Everything is fine. I’m sorry.”

She was quiet. I held my breath, making a silent prayer to God that she would just let it be, and that this nightmare could finally come to an end.

“Did you know it’s a felony to call the police without cause?” she asked seriously.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unsure if she could even hear me.

“It’s okay, honey,” she said sympathetically. “We’ve tracked your location, and an officer is going to stop by soon to check on you just to make sure.”

“No, I told you everything is fine. They don’t need to come here.”

“Someone has to be dispatched on every call, it’s protocol.”

A fresh wave of dread washed over me as I tried to make sense of what she was saying.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

I quickly ended the call and dropped the phone in my lap.

“Open the door right now,” Mama demanded.

I got up slowly, my brain in a heavy fog, still unsure of what just happened.

She gasped in surprise as I opened the door and revealed myself. My eyes quickly analyzed her from head to toe to make sure she wasn’t harmed.

“Oh, Maya,” she said, putting her hands on my cheeks. I flinched away from her touch, my body no longer able to tell the difference between a loving and a punishing form of human contact.

“Please honey, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she assured me.

She reached for me again and this time I let her. I watched closely as she examined the damage in front of her, tears streaming silently down her face. I knew I had to tell her the police were on their way, but I didn’t know how to. She was going to be so angry and worried. But watching her fret over me, and feeling her fingers stroking my face and my neck softly . . . lovingly . . . would she be mad? She just got a front-row seat to what Mikhail was capable of, and when I finally came forward about all the other things he’d done, she wouldn’t be able to deny it any longer. Mikhail needed to leave. He needed to be taken far, far away from us, and get some serious help. She had to know that by now.

“Everything is going to be okay. Just go take a warm bath, and I’m going to make you some dinner.”

“Mama, I . . .”

“Yes?”

“I called the police.”

All the color completely drained from her face and she snatched her hands away from me.

“You did what?”

She was pissed. Of course she was.

“I . . . I called the police––”

“Oh my God, Maya, why? Why would you do that?” she asked frantically.

“I was scared! I didn’t know what else to do. I heard yelling and then a loud bang, and I thought he was going to hurt you––”

“He’s my son, how could you think he would ever hurt me?”

“Look at me!” I screamed hoarsely. “He did this to me right in front of you! What makes you think he won’t do the same to you? I did you a favor, he needs help. He needs help that you can’t provide for him.”

“Your brother loves you––”

“This is love?” I interrupted, pointing to the marks on my neck.

“It was just a misunderstanding. He was upset because you called his girlfriend and were unkind to her, so he just––just reacted in the moment! He’s not a monster. He’s human and he’s your brother. Siblings fight, it doesn’t mean you call the cops to come and take him away!”

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe she was defending him after everything. I couldn’t believe she was still making excuses for his horrific behavior.

“Maya, please.” She put her hands on either side of my face, bringing me down to her eye level. “Please, you have to tell them it was a mistake. They can’t take him away from me, he’s my only son. What he did today was not okay, but calling the police isn’t the solution. Are you really so cruel a sister? Is your heart truly this black?”

She did that a lot, Ana. Insinuated that I was a mean, cold, terrible, terrible sister. It’s funny, though. I’ve never once heard her say that Mikhail was a terrible brother.

“He’s not like this all the time. He’s never acted this way before. You really can’t forgive one mistake?”

This is your chance, I told myself. Open your mouth, speak, scream about every other mistake he’s made and watch the truth poison her with pain.

But I couldn’t, Ana. My pathetic lips stayed pressed together and my eyes continued to stare straight into her tortured soul. I hated what this was doing to her. What I was doing to her. Mikhail’s actions weren’t her fault, but she was going to be the one who suffered the consequences in the end. I couldn’t do that to her. I didn’t understand the strong urge she possessed to protect Mikhail, especially after the way he treated me, but how could I? I wasn’t a mother. I couldn’t possibly comprehend the deep and unbreakable bond that was coiled tightly between a mother and her son. I just wished the same could be said between her and I.

I was constantly being torn between empathy and betrayal. The natural maternal instinct in me that came with having a womb understood, but the daughter in me that she failed over and over again did not.

“Maya,” she said urgently. “Please!”

I nodded quickly as bright headlights flashed through the curtains in the living room.

She kissed my cheek and ran upstairs. I didn’t move from where I was standing, still surprised and disturbed by the events that had transpired. My mom hurried back and shoved something over my head. A turtleneck sweater. To cover up the bruises, of course.

There was a loud knock on the door. I could feel the panic starting to bubble up, but I shoved it back down. I couldn’t afford to break down right now. She needed me to be strong, for the both of us. I had to protect her from any torment threatening to come her way, which meant I had to fix the problem I created. I had to convince the police it was all a misunderstanding. A mistake. That I was fine.

Completely and utterly fine.

I took a deep breath and turned to the door, but before I could take a step, Mikhail rushed down the stairs and beat me to it.

“Hello officers, how can I help you?”

I closed my eyes tightly to keep myself from making a disgusted expression. I would never get used to how easily he could pretend to be a friendly and charming man.

“We received a call from someone in your household today,” one of the officers replied. They both stepped inside, taking a look around before their stare landed on me.

Despite my mother’s attempt to make me look presentable, it was obvious they could tell something was wrong. I don’t know what she expected, but I wasn’t a magician. I couldn’t just erase all traces of trauma from my appearance at a moment’s notice.

I forced myself to smile back at them. My facial muscles felt like they were moving through cemented concrete.

“That was me who called,” I said, my voice rough and scratchy. I cleared my throat a few times, swallowing down the shooting pain. “I tried explaining to the dispatcher who answered that it was a mistake.”

“We still have to come out,” he replied, regarding me intensely. “There’s a lot of situations where people are forced to say that on the phone, even if it’s not true.”

I nodded. “Yes, I understand, and I appreciate you coming out here, but everything’s fine.”

They didn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“So what happened?” he asked. “You seem pretty shaken up.”

“I’m fine, really,” I started, scrambling to come up with an excuse that made sense, but Mikhail spoke before I could.

“That would be my little sister’s fault, officer. We got into a simple argument and, in an attempt to get back at me, she called the police without thinking,” he lied smoothly, walking over to me. “Isn’t that right, Maya?”

It took everything in me to keep my smile from wavering. So that’s how he was going to get out of this? By placing the blame on me? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Is that true?” the officer demanded.

“Yup,” I replied bubbly. Too bubbly. I sounded phony even in my own ears. I couldn’t help myself. I had to over-compensate to hide the fact that I was reeling inside. I was a ticking time bomb, ready to eradicate everything in my wake.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the other officer asked. He had been quiet up until then, watching me the entire time while the other one did all the talking, analyzing my every movement. There was something about the way he was staring at me that made me extremely uncomfortable. Like he could see straight through my charade.

“She’s fine,” Mikhail answered for me and, taking it way too far, put his arm around my shoulder. My body immediately tensed up at his proximity. Fear raced through my blood and my bones were threatening to explode in distress. “Siblings fight, it’s not a big deal.”

“I was asking her,” he said, scowling at Mikhail.

“Listen, bro––”

“I am not your bro,” he interrupted sharply.

Mikhail didn’t respond and just smiled politely, but I could feel his rage coming off his body in fumes. His arm, the same arm that was trying to kill me not even an hour earlier, tightened around me.

“Everything is fine. I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you guys,” I told him sincerely. Well, the last part was sincere.

“It wasn’t an inconvenience,” the quiet one said softly. He walked up to me and slipped a small card into my pocket before looking away and glaring at my brother. “Next time we won’t let you off so easy.”

Mikhail continued to stay quiet and followed them to the door. He stayed with his back to me until their car pulled out of our driveway and drove off, before turning around.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he fumed, stalking toward me.

“Mikhail, it was an accident,” Mama said, stepping in front of me. Her intention to protect me was useless, though, because Mikhail wasted no time roughly shoving her out of the way.

“Don’t touch her!” I shrieked, reaching out and pushing him. He stumbled back in surprise. “Get away from––”

I didn’t see his hand until it made contact with my left cheek sharply. The loud smack of his blow cracked through the air like a lightning bolt. I didn’t have time to react before he plunged his hand into my pocket and roughly grabbed the card that the police officer had given me. I watched silently as he shredded the card and threw the pieces into my face.

“You disgust me,” he whispered, and then left, slamming the door behind him.

“Maya, honey, are you okay?” Mama asked quietly. I opened my eyes and stared at her defeated frame. She looked exhausted, and her shoulders were hunched down with the weight of the world.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, I know this is hard,” she said, pulling me into her arms. “I’ll speak to him tonight. Things will get better, I promise.”

I didn’t respond. I just rested my chin on her frail shoulder, letting her think she was comforting me, but in reality, I was already shutting down. Her words had lost all meaning. Her touch, once capable of alleviating all my pain, had lost its impact. She was holding the empty, inhuman, untethered shell of the girl I used to be, whoever the fuck she was. I couldn’t even remember. Fragments of myself had been chipped off and scattered along the way through this never-ending web of suffering without my notice and now they were lost forever.

Life becomes so much more peaceful once you detach yourself from the truth, Ana. My family had made me feel so lonely and unwanted, but I didn’t have it in me to be bothered about it anymore. I could scream, and cry, and beg the universe to please, please, please save me because I couldn’t handle it anymore, but what was the point? I knew that I would wake up the next day and everything would just be ten times worse.

To be completely honest, Ana . . . I really felt like ending it all tonight, but I know I’ll never do it because there’s always this stupid part of me that gives the next day a chance. I tell myself that maybe, finally, something good will happen. Nothing good ever does happen, but for some reason, I still hang on to that part anyway.