She said it would be okay. But obviously, that's a lie. It's always a lie. No one ever tells the truth because the truth is never good. So, they have a reason to lie, but why does the truth have to hurt so bad? She's slipping away, and all I can do is stand and watch. It's been 2 months since the results have improved slightly, but depression is hard to beat.
I try to comfort her, but without comfort of my own it feels so empty. I feel so selfish for feeling that, but it's true.
She's been given a deadline for three months, but even I feel like she won't make it for even one. She just sits there, without any care. No care for herself. No care for me. Her only son, only family, only one who truly cares. Why does she have to give up on me? Because when she gives up on herself, she gives up on me. She doesn't have a reason to live, at least that's what she mumbles in her sleep at night. The only thing she ever says, saying she doesn't have a reason to live, why bother trying, life is useless yada yada yada.
I love her, but she doesn't seem to notice anymore. I try to get a response out of her, but the only thing I get is an empty stare, looking into the vast void of nothingness.
She prefers to look at nothing instead of her son.
And it hurts. Oh so bad. Leaving for school every morning after the carer comes, looking over my shoulder to see her same position, sitting in that rocking chair staring out the window. Leaving to go to a useless school, to learn useless things. Useless because nothing I learn there is going to help me cure my mum!
But I'm not naïve. Judy thinks there is always a possibility for recovery, but she isn't the one having to look after her. Coronary Heart Disease is probably the deadliest disease you can get, and since we lived in the slums of the city for the first part of my life, before I met Judy, there was barely any good living conditions for us. Put the fact that she used to smoke when my father disappeared, put the fact that my father disappeared, and it isn't a good concoction.
She just doesn't have the will to live, so the depression Is decreasing her living time.
A lot.
Nick tapped his pencil absentmindedly on the desk whilst leaning on his elbow, fatigue taking over him as the equations on the board blurred into a picture of his mother and him, playing in a swing set.
The fox cub sighed in despair, as he fingered his pencil, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, glancing around the classroom packed with bored kits, cubs and pups. One was even sleeping behind an open book, which summed up how Nick felt at that moment. In front of him Judy was furiously zipping through the algebra questions like they were a racing track, the noticeable sound of pencil flying across paper being emitted from her desk.
The fox kit watched her ears through lazy eyes, sighing again as he tried to make sense of the numbers and pronumerals.
"Mr Nicolas Wilde, are you concentrating?" their tiger teacher, Mr Robin, inquired, drawing all the classes eyes towards him.
Nick blinked several times, trying to comprehend the question.
"F-fine," he choked out, coughing to clear his throat after the long pause.
"Mmm," his throat rumbled, turning back to concentrating on teaching his lesson.
Nick puffed out a breath, his eyes darting back down to the concentrating Judy, his eyes drooping down at the sight of how blind she was to everyone around her. That, in his view, was her only fault. Sure, she was extremely caring and kind to everyone's needs, but that was only when she actually noticed them. Other than that, she was always so focused on her tasks, that animals could be dying and yet she wouldn't bat an eye.
That's exaggerated, he rolled his eyes at himself, as Mr Robin underlined the answer to his equation on the board with a screech.
The fox kit choked back a loud sigh of frustration at how desperate for comfort he sounded. He didn't need anyone's sympathy, he could easily handle things on his own.
Easily…
If only it were that easy.
Living didn't seem as easy anymore.
His mum had proven that.
Mum…
Nick needed to get out, he was drowning in his thoughts. He wouldn't be able to come back for air if he didn't get some. His ears flicked back in alarm as he took quick little gasps, blinking violently to prevent any tears from even thinking of spilling out.
He quickly raised his paw, stretching it up high and fast to get his teacher's attention.
"Yes?" the tiger asked suspiciously, as Nick took a tiny gulp.
"I need to go to the bathroom," he quickly mumbled, loud enough for the large tiger to hear. He sighed, and tiredly rubbed his temples. The afternoon must have been getting to him too, as Nick was the 11th student to go.
"Go on, but hurry," he growled lightly, as Nick scrambled out of his seat, shoving his chair to the side.
The fox navigated his way through the tables of bored students, like navigating through a swarm of droning bees drunk with honey. He slipped through the door, closing it lightly with a small click that echoed through the halls. It was that empty with silence.
Air, air, air. I need air, he thought frantically to himself, whipping his head left and right as he tried to remember where the bathrooms were in his numbed state. He decided to run left, oblivious to any other students or any teachers. He took a blind right, as forests of lockers blurred past him. Just like his tears.
Another right, straight on running, a left, straight on running.
He was just driving through the school in a zigzagging rate, throwing a blind eye to anything around him. Nick just wanted to get lost, lost from society, lost from his feelings, lost from the troubles. He just wanted everything to fall away, liking water dripping down a rock. He wanted to drown in something, anything.
Just get him away from this mess.
The cub yanked open a door and threw it shut behind him with a loud clank. He turned around sharply, only to be wacked in the cheek with a sharp, straw like substance that attacked him from the dark. It threw him off balance, as he tried to brush it off with his paws, he fumbled around and tripped over a bucket, which pulled him down into a group of cleaning items. They all avalanched onto him, ambushing him with their handles and sponges.
Nick tried and failed to get up, since his foot was still trapped in the bucket. He tried to shake it off, only resulting in another broom to fall, and crash down into the others, forming a bar across his chest.
The kit gripped the handle with both paws in a fist, face scrunched as tears fell in pools, blinding his eye to the little light he had.
He shoved it off, bringing more sponges and buckets to be knocked down a shelf, lids popping open. They all fell to the ground in a torrent of water and soap, creating a large pool of water licking Nick's feet.
He shivered, crying more as he curled into a little ball, as the water lapped at his tail, drenching his shorts.
But he didn't care, because finally something was drowning him, other than the tears that washed his cheeks.
Finally, he wasn't drowning in his emotions.
Hey guys! So sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER. I just realized when I was looking through my stories that I have left this one on complete, even though it isn't. So sorry about that, we aren't leaving it at that ;)
Anyhow, I have been (don't mind the pun) drowning in school work and have just finished 2 exams this morning so now I am (basically) free. Apart from that English exam of writing a short story, but y'know this was basically study.
I hope you enjoyed this, it was more Nick base, sorry for that I will include some Judy moments, but again, school (cry). I will try and update more from now on, but I am horrible with commitments to y'know, reviews are greatly appreciated. Especially some advice on how I can expand my writing knowledge.
Until then, Floof Out!