My dad slapped me on his birthday. “what kind of w…

from my room. Forty-seven dollars in coins and crumpled bills, a thin jacket, the flip phone, and a photo I’d hidden months ago. The photo of the real Megan. I ran out the back door into the January night, three blocks. That’s as far as I got before my lungs gave out. I sat on a curb outside a closed grocery store, shaking. It was 47 degrees, drizzling.continue reading …