When they dropped me off at home, I was happy as could be. Today was not only a good day because of Paul, but Mom usually baked cupcakes for my birthday. It's September fifteenth, and I was finally eighteen. I hoped Mom wasn't too depressed, but I guess I could get over it if she was.

I walked in through the front door and smelled alcohol. It didn't surprise me because I came home to this smell for a while now. What surprised me the most was the fact that Mom had hit the harder alcohol, like vodka and tequila. This was out of the ordinary for her. I immediately went to the living room to look for her.

Mom had stayed there for the last two weeks. It worried me a lot she hasn't gotten over this yet. Something was bothering her more than normal. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she wouldn't say anything. She'd close her eyes and shake her head. Today I was determined to find out what exactly was going on.

"Mom?" I asked, not seeing her on the couch.

I went looking in the kitchen next. She wasn't there either so I went upstairs next. Mom's bedroom door was open. I looked around in there for a second to see it was empty. That's when I heard a noise come from the bathroom. I quickly went down the hall.

The door was unlocked, but I had to shove very hard to get the door open. When it finally gave way, Mom was lying on the floor unconscious. I saw the bottle of booze in one hand and pills all over the sink and bathroom floor. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called for help.

I was told that help would be here in a matter of minutes. I stayed in the bathroom with Mom until an ambulance showed up. I got to ride with them to the local hospital. I walked in with them until they went into the ER, where Dr. Carlisle Cullen stopped me. He is the adoptive father of the pale kids at school. He told me I needed to wait in the waiting room until further notice.

I did as he said and it felt like I waited for an eternity for him to come back. I had tried pacing, but that made things worse. I sat, as patiently as possible, in a chair for over an hour while I listened to music to help pass the time and drown out my thoughts.

That's when there was a gentle touch to my shoulder. When I came out of my daze, I noticed Dr. Cullen kneeling in front of me with Jasper next to him. It was a surprise to see Jasper, maybe he was there to pick his dad up after his shift. I looked into Jasper's eyes for a moment and felt weird butterflies like the same ones from earlier with Paul. Then I blushed and remembered Dr. Cullen was there. I took my earbuds out and looked at Dr. Cullen.

"How is she? Will I get to see her soon?" The questions came pouring out I couldn't help but ask. Mom was the only family I had left that I knew of.

"She is doing much better now. She is awake, stable, and was asking for you. Would you like to come to see her now?" Dr. Cullen asked.

I nodded and stood up to follow Dr. Cullen down the hall to my mother's room. Jasper was behind both of us. Dr. Cullen held the door open for me and left us alone to talk. When the door shut, I started crying and looked at Mom. I sat in the chair next to her bed.

"I am so sorry for ruining your day, sweetie." Mom began apologizing.

I shook my head.

"Don't be sorry, Mom. I should have been there for you. I don't know how, but I shouldn't have left you," I said through tears.

"It's really okay. I need to tell you why I have been so sad though," Mom said.

I wiped away the tears and looked at her. She was finally telling me what was going on. I knew it was more than just work, but I couldn't guess what else was bothering her.

Mom started telling me about what had really taken place in her life and what had happened with Dad. It was way more complicated than I thought it would be, at least I was getting the whole story now.

Mom told me about what little she remembers of her childhood. How her father was an abusive drunk that used to rape her after she started developing as a young woman. Her mother was emotionally and mentally abusive to her as a child and teenager. Her mother would call her a slur and her father would call her his special girl or other things.

When she left home, she came here with no way of her parents finding her. That's when she met my father. When she was new to town, he was nice to her. He saw her like a princess at first and treated her like royalty. Then after their third date, they had sex for the first time. That's when Mom became pregnant with me.

When she told Dad, he hit her and physically abused her because he was drunk. The next day he apologized and promised it would never happen again. He promised to take care of us and be a good man. Dad had gone back on his word several times after that over the next few months. Then it changed after I was born. Dad promised to make me his special girl. He promised to marry Mom.

After that is when my father was killed. It was his fault, mostly. It came out that he was cheating on Mom for months. He was selling drugs to make some extra money to support us. Dad had been drinking the night he was killed. He bought me the necklace and Mom's ring with his drug money.

"And that's why I waited until now to tell you. I didn't want you to find out when you were younger because you wouldn't have been able to understand," Mom said.

I took it all in. Mom had always been there for me, even though she had her ups and downs, at least she wasn't abusive. She did her best to take care of me. I knew she was shielding me from this for her own reasons. It must have been painful for her to live through all that. It didn't make things any easier to take in, but I believed she was only making what she thought was the right decision.

"Thank you for telling me the truth, Mom. I can only imagine how hard things must've been for you," I said, gently holding her hand.

I knew I would have to be there for Mom after she told me this. There was one thing I still didn't understand. I hope I won't regret asking this, but I needed to know.

"Why did you drink so much and almost overdosed, Mom?" I asked.

"Because I was feeling depressed about the anniversary of your father's death, you turn eighteen and going off to college. It was a lot for me to take in." She explained.

I thought for a second. I didn't know what to say. I knew she'd object if I said I wasn't going to college, but she needed me here. How do you say that to a parent?

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm going to rehab after this to get the help I need, I promise," Mom said.

I knew she would make good on her promise, she always did. I hoped it would help her. I couldn't imagine why it wouldn't, but I knew relapses happened with rehab patients sometimes.