Welcome to America

Maybe he was growing away from me, so that we’d no longer have to stand in the same room, measuring each other with our eyes

We were a family of light. A family of light

That was the thing about growing up. Certain things belong to certain times.

Maybe that was why I no longer felt the same need for the theatre. Because dad was dead and nothing else felt quite as threatening to us

And then there was God. God, who was going to cut my life short. I could not imagine my mum and brother at the funeral, could not dwell on such fantasies. They scared me. The thought of my mum and brother without me was horrible. The two of them on their own.

Everyone would see that we were a family of light. We were untouchable, because that was how mum wanted it

I thought to myself that she wasn’t being sincere. That she knew what I wanted, that everyone knew, if only they had the courage to answer the question themselves

One time, he said so much had gone wrong since he died. That mum couldn’t be trusted. Never trust a woman, he said. As if he knew I’d never become one

I heard the way they laughed together as they ate. It struck me how much like kids they were. It was as if we’d swapped places without noticing

I think mum knew that, but she didn’t seem to worry about it. I think she just wanted to be happy in the moment