I was born with a cursed mouth. The day my mom gave birth to my little brother, four-year-old me spoke the first sentence of my life: "Here comes the debt collector." My dad heard it. He grabbed a sewing needle and pierced my lip. I bled so much. My Nana held me in her arms, heart broken, screaming at my dad, "She's just a child! How could you?" I stared unblinkingly at my father and whispered, in a voice only Nana could hear: "He's going to die." The next day, my dad’s semi-truck jackknifed on the highway. By the time they found him, he was nothing but a pile of meat paste. 1. After Mom got the insurance payout, she took my baby brother and moved to Chicago, leaving me behind in the boonies with Nana. She said I cursed my father to death. She said I was a jinx, a bad seed. I stared at the baby in her arms and thought: But he’s the debt collector. Why is she blaming me? From that day on, I rarely saw my mother. The folks in our small town didn't know I could speak. To them, I was just "The Mute." Adults whispered it; kids shouted it. Some mean little boys would throw mud at me. "No daddy, no mommy, just a stray little mute! Get lost! We don't play with freaks!" Children’s cruelty is pure and unfiltered. Nana would march to their houses, hands on her hips, and curse their parents out, but it didn't change much. One day, when Nana came home, I was tending the wood stove. She pulled a first-grade reading book out of her canvas tote. She rubbed my head, her rough hands gentle. "Raven, honey, I helped Mrs. Gable clean her attic, and she gave me this instead of cash. Nana’s gonna teach you to read, okay?" I shook my head. I didn't want to read. Counting ants was more fun. Nana, usually so gentle, got angry for the first time. Her eyes were sharp. "If you don't want to learn, you don't eat dinner. Think about it." Two hours later, I found Nana and waved my hands frantically. I wanted to learn. Not because I had an epiphany, but because I realized if I didn't read, Nana really wouldn't feed me. I was hungry. Nana smiled, her face wrinkling up like a happy apple. She rushed to serve me stew. "I knew my Raven was smart. We start after supper." From then on, Nana taught me a word a day. If she didn't know it, she’d ask the neighbors. By the time I was eight, I knew hundreds of words. I communicated with Nana using a whiteboard I cherished like gold. Mom had thrown it out as trash when she moved; Nana had dug it out for me. Nana knew I could speak. She knew I just chose not to. She told everyone, "She’s just saving her words for something important." 2. On the night of my twelfth birthday, Nana made me a huge bowl of longevity noodles. Two golden fried eggs sat on top, garnished with fresh greens from the garden. It looked perfect. I ate until my mouth was slick with oil, waving at Nana to eat too. She just watched me, smiling. "Eat up, Raven. Nana wants you healthy and to live a hundred years." "You're twelve now. What’s my big girl’s birthday wish?" I chewed on the end of my chopstick, thought for a moment, then grabbed my pen. I wrote, stroke by stroke: To be with Nana forever. To have a happy home. Inside, it was warm and loving. Outside, the wind howled, promising a storm. 3. Then came the knock at the door. I slurped a noodle, wondering who it could be. We didn't have friends. A widow and a mute girl? People avoided us like we carried the plague. I peeked out and saw my mother. She dragged my brother, Caleb, inside and dumped her expensive bag on the heater. My heart leaped. Did Mom remember my birthday? Did she come back to celebrate? She saw me and the bowl of noodles. Her brows knitted together tight. "Today is your birthday?" Caleb tugged her hand. "Mom, I'm hungry. I want fried eggs too." Mom ignored him. She just stared at me. I nodded, hope rising in my chest. Then, she lunged. Smack. She slapped me so hard I saw stars. "I knew it! I knew you were a curse! Why don't you just die?" My face swelled instantly. Nana rushed in from the kitchen, saw me holding my face, and shoved Mom away. She hugged me tight. "What is wrong with you?! It's Raven's twelfth birthday! If you want to act crazy, get out!" Mom laughed and cried at the same time, collapsing on the floor, pointing a shaking finger at me. "This little bitch jinxed me, Ma!" "I was going to put a down payment on a condo tomorrow. But today? Today Caleb burned down the entire carport at our complex!" "I had to pay $30,000 in damages! Eight years of savings, gone! They kicked us out. We had to run back here overnight." She looked at me through blurry tears. "What kind of demon are you? You cursed your dad to death, and now you're destroying me and your brother. Why won't you just die? Please, just die!" I was stunned by her screaming. Tears pooled in my eyes. I didn't understand. Caleb set the fire. Why was it my fault? Nana pushed me gently. "Raven, take your brother to the back room to sleep. I need to talk to your mother." I nodded and reached for Caleb’s hand. "Don't touch my son, you mute freak!" Mom screamed. If anyone else had said that, Nana would have fought them. But this was her daughter. I lay in bed, tears soaking the pillow, unable to sleep. Late that night, Nana lay down beside me and pulled me into her arms. "Don't blame your mom, Raven. She’s had a hard life." The next day, I brushed my teeth and went to school as if nothing happened. I treated my mother like air. She hadn't cared for me in years, only to come back and call me a freak? Fine. I only needed Nana. That woman wasn't fit to be a mother. 4. Mom spent the next few days transferring Caleb to the village school and showing him off to relatives. Eight-year-old Caleb was a spoiled brat. He thought he was better than everyone because he came from the city. He sat under the big oak tree, showing off a toy. "My mom got this train from overseas. It's expensive." He pressed a button, and the train went Choo Choo and ran along the ground. Billy, the neighbor’s kid, drooled over it. "Caleb, let me play when you're done?" Caleb sneered. "Get away. You dirty hillbilly, you'll break it. Go play with mud." Billy rolled his eyes. "I may be a hillbilly, but at least I don't have a mute sister who kills her dad." Billy started dancing around, chanting, "Caleb's sister is a mute! The mute has a brother named Caleb!" Caleb flew into a rage. He grabbed a rock and smashed it into Billy’s head. "She's the mute, not me! I don't have a sister! Mom said she's a debt collector, she should be dead!" "I'll kill you! You dirty wild kid!" By the time the adults found them, Billy had a four-inch gash on his head. He needed fourteen stitches. That afternoon, I came home to a cold kitchen. When Nana and Mom finally dragged Caleb back, Mom twisted his ear and made him kneel. I did my homework, not looking up. "Why did you hit him with a rock?!" Mom screamed. "Do you know how much trouble I went through to get you into this school?" "Why can't you behave? You won't have any friends!" Caleb pointed at me, sobbing. "It's her fault! They made fun of me because of her! Mom, you said she's a debt collector, why isn't she dead yet?" "I want Daddy! I don't want a sister!" Nana’s face turned green. For the first time, she yelled at Caleb. "Your sister is not a debt collector! Raven is a good child!" Mom heard Caleb say it was my fault, and her anger shifted targets instantly. "Raven! Did I owe you something in a past life? Must you destroy me and your brother? Do you know how much I've suffered because of you?" I put my homework in my bag and looked at Caleb kneeling on the floor. His fat face had no childish innocence. Just snot and malice squeezing out of his piggy eyes. His mouth was wide open, wailing. I couldn't articulate my disgust. So I spoke. "Then let the real debt collector be childless and die before he turns sixteen." My voice was raspy from disuse, but the curse rang clear in the small room. Nana rushed over and covered my mouth. "Raven! Don't say such things! There are no debt collectors in this family!" She started bowing to the empty air, like she was possessed. "Child's words, no harm meant! God, please don't listen to her nonsense! I apologize on her behalf!" Nana slammed her head against the floor until it bruised. I tried to stop her, but she pulled me down. "Raven, kneel! Tell God you were just talking nonsense!" I stubbornly kept my mouth shut. I was the mute again. Mom laughed coldly. "Ma, if she dares to curse him, let's see if God opens his eyes." "Don't worry. If this little bitch dies, you still have me, and you have your precious grandson. We'll take care of you." Nana ignored her, shaking my shoulders. "Raven, take it back!" I shook my head. A word spoken is a word bound. Disappointed, Nana slapped me. It was the first time she ever hit me. I didn't want to cry in front of Mom. I held back the tears and ran out the door.
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