Crossing Borders by Lisa Brackmann

Crossing Borders by Lisa Brackmann

Author:Lisa Brackmann
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Down & Out Books


Dr. Cheryl asks me to stay after Group again. “I read your story, Tanya. I’ll be honest.” She sighs. “I’m disappointed. I thought you’d made more headway with accepting responsibility.”

I open my mouth to launch into how the short story was my experience, my exact experience.

“There’s no ownership, no remorse on your part. With Group and with our individuals, I really thought you were further along. I guess I was wrong,” Dr. Cheryl says, shaking her head sadly.

My heart flutters like a panicky bird is trapped in my chest. What was I thinking, writing my story the way it transpired? What will happen when I’m up for parole? Dr. Cheryl won’t go to bat for me. That’s what’ll happen. But I want out. I want early parole. It’s what keeps me going. I hate my locked-up life.

“Dr. Cheryl,” I say slowly, swallowing my truth, staring at my canvas slip-on shoes. “I feel awful about what I did. Truly awful. No one feels more remorse than me.” I pause, searching for the words that’ll do the trick. “And you called it. Writing the story was cathartic. It’s like an emotional weight has been lifted from me. I feel like I can stand up straight now. And face the world.

“The thing is, I had to write my story as fiction. I had to. To give it a better chance of getting in the anthology. And I think it works. I might even have a talent for creative writing. Me having a talent for something? That’s a first.”

I take a deep breath and carry on. “I made up how Machelle kept texting me that afternoon, timing it right with Chloe so I’d see her and Kaden kiss. And how Machelle had Kaden deliver a bottle of water to me so he’d be standing by me when he passed out. And then there was the crazy, convoluted explanation of how my DNA ended up inside a glove with fentanyl on the outside.”

I stop talking. I’ve run out of things to say. My heart throws itself against my ribcage.

There’s silence.

Finally, I look up.

Dr. Cheryl is staring at me, her eyes glistening behind her glasses. “I’m proud of you, Tanya. You got it all figured out.”



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