Shet, it's been a while :/ it's all precalculus and programming's fault!
FOURTY-SIX
Like all nights, I slept three hours mostly. I was exhausted yet scared. The horrid scene with Mom replayed in my mind like a damaged disc. I even had a nightmare, a weird one where I was being chased by a black cloud. I was running as if I was in a marathon, like my life depended on it and it did felt like that… it felt real.
By sunrise, I was still uneasy from the nightmare, so I stood up and splashed water on my face like ten times. When I finally regained myself, I headed downstairs after changing up and began to make breakfast. Mom wasn't up so I guessed that pill was doing it's job –the part of providing sleep, that is. The other one… I wasn't so sure. Mom was depressed last night, so maybe it takes more time for that part of the pill to make effect too?
I cried out loud at the burning pain in my hand. When I looked down, I realized I unconsciously touched the hot pan. Great.
When I finished cooking crumbled eggs, Mom was still sleeping so I retrained it in the oven and waited for her. I walked around the house and unconsciously sat on her chair. I sighed deeply as I turned on the TV. Minutes passed and I realized just how comfortable and warm her chair was. I yawned as my eyes began to close…, -"Outta my chair!"
I yelped and practically jumped out of her chair. Quickly, she sat as if I would take it again.
I scratched my head, -"Um… I made crumbled eggs. Do you want some?"
She nodded, -"Sure."
A small smile crept up my face. Her answers were usually shrugs or none at all. I placed the plate on her lap and watched her eye it. She made a face, but began eating it nonetheless. I sighed in relief and walked into the kitchen to prepare a sandwich for me. When I finished, I sat in the couch beside her and tried to watch her novel. We had a small conversation about it… which was turning out more like a discussion so I ended it. Yet, I wanted to speak with her as much as I could so I began talking about it again. She was bothered with me at first, but as I reasoned with both our opinions, we deepened the conversation.
-"She should get a work and earn her own money. Only then she won't have to depend on that bully."- I spoke.
Mom was nodding to my statements and that was something.
-"I mean, being abused by someone is horrible and she doesn't have to take it all."
Mom had her hand on her chin and her eyes mildly closed, as if trying to remember something. All this talk about bullies made my chest ache. It was an obnoxious topic for me, one that brings unwanted memories.
It also reminded me of Marco. I was wondering how he was doing in school with all that mess going on until Mom spoke, -"I… remember somethin'…"
I crooked an eyebrow and when she started making painful faces, I quickly stood up, placing a hand on her shoulder, -"Hey, take it easy."
Even after I said that, she kept squeezing her eyes a bit, poking around her memory. I had no idea what she was trying to remember. When she finally dropped it, I relaxed a bit and the rest of the day flew by with the usual: chores, cooking, etc.
Around 8 o' clock pm, Mom called me, -"Jean, gimme one o' those."
-"Uh… those what?"- I said, drying my hands in a towel after washing the dishes.
-"The pills."
-"Oh… the ones from yesterday?"- I asked, standing on my toes to peek at her direction from the kitchen.
She nodded.
I was kind of surprised –kind of. I opened her pill box and poured one Adapin on my palm and filled a glass with water. When I brought it to her, she didn't hesitate on taking them. If she was asking for them, then she at least felt better –I mean, she otherwise wouldn't have asked for them. Maybe they're helping her sleep. If they're helping her with depression… I didn't know yet. I'd had to keep an eye on her tonight.
I did just that, barely struggling to stay awake. I sighed as I stared at the ceiling, like every night and just… roamed around my thoughts, something I rarely did during daylight –during all this time, to be honest; fear for Mom had me like this and I guess I grew accustomed –no, I definitely did. I didn't know if it was a good thing though; on one hand, I had time for myself and my thoughts, on the other, well… no sleep.
Drifting through my thoughts about Mom's situation, I heard her shift on her bed. I called it off after it muted, but then she shifted again and again. Then, she stood up and walked out of the room. Onrush, I followed her to the bathroom. I wasn't sure if she noticed me, but she entered without closing the door nonetheless. She sat and that was my cue.
-"Mom…,"- I spoke silently, refusing to let yesterday's event occur again, -"You're not alone. I'm here, okay?"
At first, she ignored me, but since I never left my place, she started to notice me. She kept glancing at me, as if to see if I was watching her. She kept looking around. I knew she was looking for something sharp, but unfortunately for her, I got rid of it all.
-"I won't let you do it –I can't let you,"- I spoke, feeling my chest tightening, -"I need you to remember that you're not alone. I'm here. I'll always be, but I have to know what's bothering you so I can help you."
She sobbed and hesitated, but her expression began to soften, -"I don't feel good…"- She said.
I quickly walked inside, placing a hand on her back, -"What's wrong?"
When she rubbed her stomach, Stomach ache, I though, -"Okay, there's some stomach ache pills downstairs. Do you want me to get them?"
She nodded.
-"Okay, I'll be right back,"- I said and rushed downstairs, almost falling in the process. When I reached it, I quickly opened the drawer and pull out Zantac. After filling a glass of water, I hurried back upstairs, -"Here, I brought…"- I stopped midsentence when I saw Mom knelt in front of the toilet with her head down into the pit. She was coughing, as if she had something in her throat.
I placed the pill and the glass of water on the floor and knelt down with her. I started rubbing her back. It always helped me.
She kept coughing, but nothing came out and it was stressing her out. I then started to pat her back; gases often came out this way. After a few minutes, she vomited and I noted how tremulous she was, -"It's okay. You'll feel better afterwards."- I said, trying to soothe her out. And she did relaxed. It was awkward at first, but we both got over it. After that, I helped her clean up before going to bed again. I sat on her bed beside her, -"Feeling better?"- I asked.
She nodded and yawned.
-"Okay. I'll be in my room if you need anything."- I said as I stood up, only to be stopped by her.
-"Don't leave me…"- She said, shocking her head.
I smiled, -"Want me to stay with you?"- I asked.
She just nodded.
-"Alright. Make some space then."- I said, adjusting myself as best as possible beside her.
I managed to sleep more hours than previous nights. Maybe it was because I was more easeful with the situation with Mom. She asked me to sleep beside her and so I did. She didn't woke up anymore then so I presumed she felt more comfortable and less lonely with me at her side. I was glad. I had a warm feeling in my chest, one I haven't felt since I stayed with her, since this all started.
Next day, it all went smoothly. I had a slight pain in my back from bad positioning during sleep –Mom moved a lot, but other than that, it was all fine.
A week or so has passed by now and the pain in my back was worse. Mom won't sleep if I wasn't beside her. She hasn't tried suicide anymore and that was a huge relief for me. Gladly, she was sleeping better and longer, but unfortunately for me, she moved more and constantly woke me up.
She also started to ask me for more pills and I began to give them to her like the doctor prescribed. Like he said, her condition will never get better; I started to note bigger loss of memory on her part and more erratic moods. Nothing I couldn't handle, but I had to be careful. Because of her constant orders for pills, she started eating less again. Instead of asking me for food, she asked me for pills. She was sadly losing her appetite too. There wasn't much I could do, so I solved the situations as calmly as possible without making her snap at me.
As for us, we spoke and shared more. Whatever joke I would come up with, she'd laugh and say it was stupid or dumb. Each morning, I sit with her to watch the novel and often shared comments about it and stuff. It was a really nice moment.
-"Mom, do you want some pancakes?"- I asked her from the kitchen as I spread butter on the pan.
-"Nah, thanks."- She answered.
She was also… more serious, but less grumpy –well, under good circumstances; that attitude could change in a second. Her tone of voice also changed, it wasn't as brash as before; she thanked me often and that was miraculous.
I walked to her with today's pills. She swallowed them all at once.
-"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"- I asked again.
She shook her head.
I sighed and continued working on the pancake. When I finished, I sat with her like usual and watched TV. This time, she was watching a different novel since her favorite ended just yesterday. This one was about a young couple with some issues on school. There weren't much adults on it, it was mostly about younglings.
Mom sighed, -"Ah, young love,"- She said, her voice wistful, -"So, how're the ladies?"
It took me a moment to realize she was speaking to me, -"Huh? What ladies?"
-"You know. Ladies."- She emphasized on 'ladies'.
-"Ohhh,"- I said, smiling, but slowly fading, -"I… well, no. There're no ladies."
-"Huh? Why not?"
I hesitated. Should I tell her that I actually love a guy instead of a girl? How would she react? I've never had this kind of conversation with Mom and now… it was awkward –even more when she thought I had girlfriends instead of anything else. I mean, she though I'm heterosexual, what would she think of me if she knows I'm actually homo? I don't know her view on that, that's how much I knew her. I knew I had to tell her someday, and I want to, really, but now…, -"Well… not yet anyways."- I said, smirking at her.
She chuckled and then sighed again, -"I remember when I met your father in high school,"- She spoke, again with that wistful tone, as if she wished she could go back in time, -"I often got in fights and he was the only one who patched me back up."
-"Wait…,"- I said, interrupting her, -"You got in fights?"
She nodded, -"Hell yeah I did. I pulled some girl's long hair whenever she told me I was ugly. Bitches ain't got nothing on me."
I snorted, -"Makes sense."- Now I know from who I got my fighting "skills" –if it's even a skill to begin with.
She punched my shoulder lightly, smiling, -"Anyways,"- She continued, clearing her throat, -"I never liked to study for shit and I never understood numbers, so he always helped with that too,"- She paused for a few seconds, her gaze falling a bit, -"He changed the way I saw the word. It's not all bad –there is good too. There are good people."
She never shared something like this before with me. Maybe it was because I was such a jerk then, but now, well, I'm different and I was glad she was telling me this, -"So… how did you two go out?"
-"Out? Through the door, duh."
I laughed out loud, -"No, no, I meant go out in dates."- I said, unable to hold laughs.
-"Ohhhh, that,"- She laughed too, -"Well, one day, he told me he enjoyed helping me out and I told him I also enjoyed when he helped out because I really needed those grades. I was a bird brain by then so if he didn't tell me things explicitly, I wouldn't understand. Then he gave up on the riddles and told me he liked me more than a friend. The rest came itself."
I couldn't help but laugh at the resemblance I had with her. I was also a bird brain with that kind of stuff, -"You know, I was a lot like you."
We both laughed and the rest of the day went flying.
I kept thinking about our conversation and pondering if whether or not tell her who I really liked sexually. What if she rejected me like most people did? I don't even know if she's homophobic…
But I wanted to. It's a normal thing between a boy and his mother, no? I mean, it's important, something I need to tell her before… before she dies.
Another handful of weeks flew by. Mom was becoming more and more… serious yet attentive and perceptive –most of the time anyways; sometimes it's vice versa due to her bipolarity. Her grouchy attitude was almost gone. She was also becoming aware of her condition and whenever she asked me about it, I just told her it was nothing or it was okay. Her questions tended to put my hair on end and sent shivers down my spine. Thank God it wasn't frequent.
She was eating less and less. She only ate snacks whenever she needed to take the pills. She also stopped watching her novels like she used to and instead slept all day long. I tried to keep her up some activities like reading, playing card or board games, coloring books, drawing, etc. and she never complained, fully aware of my intentions.
She also stopped asking me to sleep with her, saying I won't get enough sleep if I did. I couldn't hide anything from her, she notices right away. Instead of sleeping with her, I slept on my mattress beside her bed and sure enough, I slept better. The pain in my back subsided and I felt more energetic during the day. She also stopped asking me favors like bringing her the pills, food, etc. She did everything by herself now.
I was entering the house after dumping the trash outside when she swallowed her pills, all in one go, after eating the sandwich I insisted on making, -"You should shallow them one by-"-
I started speaking when she suddenly coughed. I quickly rushed over to her and patted her back. After a few minutes, -"Thanks."- She said, walked towards the living room and sat to watch a novel.
I sighed in relief when she did. I just wanted her to do something instead of sleeping all day. When I made my sandwich, I sat beside her like most mornings and had a decent conversation with her. It was… normal now, like it was supposed to between a mother and his son. We weren't discussing anymore and it felt nice; I had a warm, peaceful feeling in me. I haven't felt like this with her since… well, a long time.
I sighed profoundly after a handful of Halloween commercials passed by. All I could think of it was a moment, even if it was for minutes, to spend with Marco. Nothing else. I missed him so damn much…
Mom noticed, -"You want to dress for Halloween?"- She sounded surprised. It was surprising; I've only celebrated Halloween once when I was a kid. We –and I mean my family, don't have a habit of celebrating it and I don't enjoy it much –I don't enjoy parties per se. I just wanted to see Marco, that's all.
-"Uh… nah, of course not."- But I can't leave Mom unwatched.
She had her eyebrow crooked, -"Don't lie to me."- She said and damn, was she perceptive.
-"Nah, really."
-"Hphm."- She muttered and turned to the TV.
At night, I laid down and fell asleep immediately. I had dream in which I was in a haunted house searching for Marco, who was kidnapped by some asshole. After "rescuing" him, I realized it was all part of Halloween.