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ASH
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I didn't have time to dwell on Dustin's weird, spontaneous visit, and definitely couldn't spare a minute to process his bold advances. My mind was too occupied with finding the courage to do something I'd been avoiding for years now. I deluded myself into believing I could change things so that I wouldn't have to deal with the facts—that I could somehow make my reality into one that would, for once in my life, actually make me happy.

But now, I finally accepted the truth.

I had to let my mother go.

Staying this closely connected to her was unhealthy for myself and everything I wanted to do in life. It was the cause for my insomnia and depression. The number one source of my unhappiness. I wanted something so bad that I ignored the alarms and warning bells going off inside every time I went back to that stupid house...all for her. My mind, body, and soul were truly exhausted from the emotional, and sometimes even physical, trauma I'd put them through the past five years, and now it was time for all of that to stop. I needed it to.

Otherwise...I may never get out of this life.

That was why, despite the heartache I already felt the moment I made the decision to do this, I was forcing my feet down Hollow Street for what could quite possibly be the very last time. Everything that I usually saw— the prostitutes, the junkies, the dealers—they were all a timeless blur to my numbed psyche. I vaguely remembered feeling a few raindrops hit my face, causing me to instinctively pull my hood further over my head, but my attention was moreso on the ugly, rundown, terror house of my childhood, and even still, my early adult years, as it came into view.

Taking in a deep breath, I steeled my emotions, my guard up just like my father always taught me to do whenever I felt vulnerable—whenever I felt the need to protect myself. Then, I took the final steps needed, my body on autopilot, until I stood right in front of the porch steps.

"Ash," Ronnie nodded up at me. It was only then that I noticed him sitting on the top step, his rich brown skin hidden under a black hoodie, similar to the way I was wearing my pale blue one.

"Hey, Ronnie," I greeted back, my eyes drifting from him and back to the house. "Has Shai sent anyone back since I was last here?"

Discreetly looking over his shoulder before answering, he shook his head. "Nah. I mean, the usual guy comes by to collect every day, but no one's shown up to rough the ladies up since you ran Paco out of here. No tellin' how long that'll last, though."

Nodding my head, I kept looking at the front door, my feet suddenly feeling like they were weighed down by cinderblocks. A few minutes passed, filled with self doubt and second-guessing, but I told myself before I left home that I couldn't come back until I finished this. It was just becoming increasingly harder for me to fully detach myself from my mother, even if she hadn't filled that role for me for almost a decade.

"Ronnie?" I called, turning my attention back to him, only to find him already looking at me with a curious gaze.

"Everything alright?" Clearly, he could see that something was bothering me.

"Yeah...I just...After today, I'm not going to be coming around here anymore," I confessed, watching as his facial expression didn't waver from the calm one he wore. "I was hoping you could do me a favor. If you can't, it's fine, it's just...I need—"

"Ash, chill," he chuckled, standing up and walking over to me. "I've been trying to get you to let me help you since we were kids, but you've always been too damn independent for your own good. Stop beating around the bush and just tell me what's up."

"You're right," I exhaled, remembering this was Ronnie I was talking to. One of the few people in this world I could trust to have my best interest at heart with whatever he did for me. I frowned for a second when I realized he very well may be the only person now that I could count on. "I'm cutting my mother off."

That got his attention. His thick eyebrows lifted in surprise, and I noticed how stiff his body went as he processed what I said. I couldn't stomach his expression any longer so instead, I looked at my hands as they fidgeted with my hoodie strings.

"I was wondering if you could stop by my place once in a while to pick up groceries for her? Y'know, whenever you get the chance. I may not physically want to see her anymore, but...I can't seem to bring myself to just completely abandon her," I shared, sniffling as I successfully fought off tears. My father would be rolling in his grave if I let anyone in this neighborhood see me cry, and I'd be damned if I let my weakness show to that extent.

"Woah, woah, Ash. What do you mean you're cutting her off? What the fuck happened? What is going on?" he questioned, confused. It was probably because I'd never shared with anyone, but my mother herself, just how close I was to severing ties to this place.

"Nothing specific happened that brought me to this. I'm just...done. Done with this place. Done with this life. This non-stop cycle of fucking pain and bullshit. I need to start thinking about what's best for me. You know?"

Please tell me you understand.

"I—" he started, seeming unsure of how to respond at first. Then, nodding his head, he agreed, "Yeah. I feel you. Do what you gotta do, Ash. You know I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks."

"For sure," he grinned, his sympathy for my situation showing in his eyes. "Just shoot me a text whenever you need me to swing by your crib and pick stuff up for her. I'll take care of it."

With a genuine smile that Ronnie had probably only seen from me a handful of times, I dapped him up before going inside. It was comforting to know that, even if I wasn't going to be around for her anymore, someone like Ronnie wasn't far. Still, if I thought explaining things to him wasn't easy, then what awaited me  upstairs could only end up being ten times as difficult.

When I got to my mother's room, I was surprised to find the door open and her sitting up in bed, fully clothed and alert.

"Ashley," she smiled waving me in. She must have seen the confusion in my eyes because she went on to explain, "Shai has me out of work until I've healed more."

"Really?" I questioned in disbelief. Uncle Shai was a greedy bastard, from what I knew, and I knew way more than he probably would have liked. I was having a hard time believing he was okay with her not working, especially since she was still one of his top earners.

"Guess there's still benefits to having been your father's whore," she shrugged nonchalantly, and I tried my best not to show how much that statement bothered me.

"Mom, I—"

"Hey, you wanna watch a movie with me?" she suddenly perked up and asked. That was when I noticed that the small tube television that was usually kept downstairs, in the kitchen, was now sitting on her bedroom dresser, facing her as she lounged in bed. "I don't know what this one is, but it's about to go off, and then The Equalizer is coming on next."

I stood there, dumbfounded, taking in the sight of her. For the first time in years, I believed I was looking at my mother while she was sober. It was like I could see the old her, almost. Her idle complacency for her situation was the only thing that reminded me I would never get the old Yelena back. It was also what gave me the courage to follow through with my decision.

She was in the middle of rambling about how much she respected Denzel Washington's acting, wishing she could meet him someday, when I cut her off.

"I can't do this anymore, Mom."

As soon as the words left my mouth, it felt like my lungs started to seize up. There was an extremely uncomfortable pressure weighing down my chest, but when my mother muted the television, I readied myself to speak again.

"This nonstop cycle of disappointment? Of trying to help you when you aren't even willing to try? It feels like I'm giving you my all and you aren't giving me anything. Maybe it's 'cause you have nothing left to give me. Maybe they've taken it all from you, but...it's not healthy. It's killing me...and...I just can't do it anymore. I won't."

"What are you saying, Ashley? You don't wanna come here anymore?" she questioned with a puzzled expression. Before I could even reply, she continued, "Because, I've already told you, I don't think you should keep coming back here. It's dangerous, and you're a beautiful girl. It's best if I come visit you when I have the chance."

Shaking my head, I clarified, "That's just it, Mom. I don't want you to do that."

"What? Visit you?" she asked, incredulous. "Don't be stupid, baby. I'm your mother. Of course I'm going to visit you."

Now getting frustrated, I scoffed, "Right. You haven't acted like a mother to me in eight years. Since I moved out, you've been to my apartment twice, one of which you did with the intention to rob me."

"Well, it's not like I have the freedom to come and go as I please!" she defended. "You know that!"

"Yeah," I said bitterly. "Well, whose fault is that?"

"I don't have a choice, Ashley!" my mother shouted, offended. She actually got out of bed, now standing right in front of me.

"Sit down, Mom, before you hurt yourself," I advised, knowing she was blinded by emotion and not thinking about her injuries. "You're still—"

Smack!

The impact of her hand connecting with my face killed whatever words were about to come out my mouth, but I refused to cover my cheek, wanting her to be able to see what she'd done as it reddened. No doubt, it would. Instead, I stared right up and into her angry green eyes.

"Don't you EVER make it seem like I wanted this life!" she snapped.

"I would never, Mom. I know you don't want this—but, you've accepted it, and I can't keep loving someone that's accepted this as their life," I explained sadly. "I won't do it."

"Oh, so, what? I'm too used up for you? Too damaged for you to love? Too dirty?! What is it?! You too good for the whorehouse, now?!" she spat with venom.

I knew my words were hurting her, but they were my truth, and before I walked away, she needed to hear them.

"Don't do that," I said, tired of arguing. "Don't act like I care about any of that shit. You know I never have and never will."

With her anger seeming to deflate, my mother whimpered, asking, "Then, how can you, my only child, not love me anymore?"

She looked so sad, so broken, and if I ever doubted she cared for me, this was proof that she did. She didn't want to lose me, and that meant a lot, but I couldn't let what I was seeing now affect what I came to do. If I did that, I'd be stuck enduring eight more years of the same thing. It had to stop, right here and right now.

"I will always love you, Mom," I told her, grabbing her hands and meaning every word. "Just, not this weak version of you. It breaks my heart to see you like this. The Yelena that raised me would rather die than live life without a backbone. I miss her. I miss her so damn much. So...if you ever find that woman again, you know where I am, but until then..."

This is goodbye.

I couldn't bring myself.to physicslly say the words, but I knew my mother could read them through the look in my eyes. She knew I meant it, and when I let her skinny hands slip from my grasp, they fell limp by her side.

After that, I left, hearing no calls or cries for me to change my mind or to come back and talk things out. There was no desperate, last ditch effort to stop what was happening, no grand gesture of love or promise of difference. She didn't utter a word as her daughter walked out her life.

Not one.

"You really did it," Ronnie spoke, amazement in his voice as I passed him on my way out. Turning around to face him, back on the front steps, I nodded, knowing that if I spoke, I'd probably cry. "Wow..."

Looking down at my feet, I let out a heavy breathe, feeling the weight of what I'd just done beginning to settle.

"Hey," Ronnie said, gently grabbing my shoulder to get my attention. When I looked up at him, he had a soft smile on his face as he insisted, "You've had a rough night, Ash. Come on. Let me walk you home."

My initial instict was to reject the offer. I never wanted to seem like I needed help in this neighborhood. But, when I thought about how overwhelmed and distracted I currently was, I realized that accepting his help was the smart option. So, nodding my head in agreement, we left, and I took my last walk down Hollow Street.