Violet's Vision: A Tale of Mons Making and Hope in Early Modern America

The first thing I remember was the sound of my mother crying.

It was late in the night, and I had been fast asleep. I didn't want to wake up, but her cries were so loud and desperate that I could not ignore them.

"What is it Mum? What's wrong?" I asked from my bed.

She turned to face me with a look of great sadness. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She looked as if she hadn't slept for days...or perhaps weeks, even months. "I'm sorry darling, but-" she couldn't finish her sentence.

A wave of cold, hard dread forced its way into my chest, cutting off all further words on my part. My heart stopped beating, and all of the air left my lungs in a single gasp. I knew then that something terrible was about to happen, and I started to shake uncontrollably. The only thing keeping me upright was the mattress beneath me, and as I stared at my mother through the darkness, I felt myself slowly slide down towards the floor.

"Mum...what is it?" She shook her head sadly at me, silently nodding for me to go with her into the kitchen where we could talk privately. As we walked into the room together, she took my hand firmly in hers, squeezing it reassuringly before she let go and opened the refrigerator door.

As soon as she opened the door, a small light fell on our faces, revealing tear-stained cheeks on both of us and bags under our eyes that would have made any self-respecting zombie jealous. The milk carton was nearly empty again; only enough remained for one more glass of milk each before we'd have to use the powdered milk again. And judging by how much powdered milk we had used in the past two weeks, that would be tomorrow morning at the earliest. We would be very hungry by then...and probably quite grumpy too if we didn't get a good night's sleep soon because of it. But at least there was still some milk left for now; that gave us some semblance of hope for the rest of this night anyway.

After closing the refrigerator door without taking out anything from within it, Mum handed me my glass of milk and sat across from me at our little breakfast table. It had seen better days in years long past when my dad built it himself as a gift for Mum during their honeymoon. They had met each other at school during their senior year and got married almost thirty years ago now. It made me smile a little to see them seated together at this table back then; they looked so very happy...but what was happening now wasn't happy at all.

"MUM!" I cried out desperately as tears started streaming down my face faster than ever before. Mum merely sat across from me calmly sipping her glass of milk with a sad look on her face while watching my tears.

"We're going to have to send you away," she said softly. "You'll go live with your father's cousin until you can get on your feet." She said this last part with a slight tremor in her voice which told me how hard this decision was for her and how much pain she would feel once I was gone, how much she would miss me, and how much she loved me. "And after you've gotten yourself settled down over there, we will try to find work here so that we can join you when your father has saved up enough money working over there!"

She continued speaking through tears, "But if things don't turn out well," she paused briefly before lowering her head slightly, "If things don't turn out well, then we won't be able to do that."

As my mother finished speaking and wiped away her tears, I understood the gravity of the situation. Our family was struggling, and my father was laid off three months ago. With financial hardships hitting everyone, including businesses and governments, finding a stable job seemed nearly impossible. People were getting desperate, making bad decisions, and negatively impacting the lives of others, including ours.

Although it pained me to leave my mother, I knew we had no other choice. We had to face these hardships head-on and hoped that one day, things would turn out well for our family.