Michael Ellick

She sort of used that as a moment to justify that I wasn't her little boy anymore.

You know what I mean?

Something like that.

And I'd heard this for years before.

I'd heard mom around the edges say, well, you know, like after the accident, Michael just kind of became a jerk and he wasn't that sweet little boy anymore.

Something like this.

And so I hear her starting to tell this story, and I'm kind of rolling my eyes a little bit like, oh, mom, here's mom.

She's got to get this story out.

This narrative is important to her.

But this time when she's telling it, when I overhear her telling it to my wife, she's telling it a little bit different.

She's not just saying generically, Michael changed after the accident.

She's getting specific.

And I hear her starting to tell the story of the day, of the morning after the accident.

And she basically says to my girlfriend, oh, I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was the next morning.

And Michael came down from his bedroom.

He ripped his bandages off.

And in a mean voice, he said, mom, from now on, everything is going to be a lot different.

And she used that as proof that I had changed.

That all of a sudden, I was a different person.