My Dark Vanessa

by Kate Elizabeth Russell

she’s online all the time these days, endlessly liking, sharing, and getting into fights with conservative trolls. She easily could have seen it.

but Mom doesn’t get it. She never lived in a dorm, never went to college, let alone boarding school.

because no matter how hard I try, I’m always scrambling, always on the brink of falling behind.

My breath catches at the thought of being so close to a serious misstep. One wrong reaction on my part could wreck this whole thing.

When he starts talking like this, my brain can’t keep up. It feels like he’s exaggerating, but I get too overwhelmed and lose track of what I believe. He can make even the most outrageous things seem feasible.

Jesse saying I’m an idiot reminds me of Strane calling me a dark romantic—both seem to point to an inclination toward bad decision-making.

I would probably let him tear me apart. I’d let him do anything.

But seeing my name on the page this time feels like a free fall, a loss of control. Maybe this really was predetermined. Maybe I was made for this.

There’s nothing stopping him from reaching in and grabbing whatever he wants. I’m special. I’m special. I’m special.

I’m starting to understand that the longer you get away with something, the more reckless you become, until it’s almost as if you want to get caught.

To be groomed is to be loved and handled like a precious, delicate thing.

“You know, sometimes I’m ashamed that you’re my kid,”

all the while hoping he doesn’t realize how familiar our words are, his questions and my denial.

Our roles reversed, for the first time in my life, I want to tell her to let it go.