Something In Between

Chapter Two

I woke up the next morning to the sound of glass clattering. With a hand pressed to my forehead, I sat up slowly and grunted as a flare of pain striked in the middle of my forehead. I had slept on the couch last night. Then I remembered. I had also drowned myself in six bottles of beer and passed out before I could go for a seventh. I stood up and saw Mom in the kitchen. My eyes widened when I realised that the sound of glass clattering was coming from the bottles of beer, whiskey, vodka and wine that Mom was dumping into the trash.

I said in a loud voice, "What are you doing?"

Mom looked up at me and said, ignoring my question, "Good morning."

I walked towards her and saw that she had two bags of bottles in front of her. She threw the last bottle of beer and tied the bag in a knot with an air of finality. "Are you nuts?!" I said as I stared up at her. This was the first time I've ever seen her act this way.

"Maybe," she replied curtly.

"Why did you do that?"

She lifted her perfect eyebrows and her lips twitched up into a smile. God, I didn't know I had a lunatic as a mother! "You are really asking me that. I raised one Satan of a son." She started massaging her forehead. I was the one with the freaking headache!

I was about to raise my voice at her and maybe even let out some colorful words but I knew this woman well enough. I didn't want to risk it. She had the mind of Hannibal Lector. "What are you going to do?" She raised her eyebrows once again and I could see the surprised look clouding over. "What? No colorful words?" I smiled at her through gritted teeth and she was biting down on her lips to keep from laughing. Damn her!

"I thought there would be more things being lashed out at me but natural defeat is better. Anyway, curfew starts at 11 and if you keep up with this for two months, I'll double your allowance. Oh, right. Before I forget, no alcohol until I'm sure I don't have a 24/7 alcoholic as a son."

"Fine. Deal. We'll do it your way," I mumbled forcefully after giving it a thought. She plants a kiss on my cheeks and goes back into the kitchen. "What do want for breakfast? And take some Ibuprofen." I did as I was told and took a seat at the dining table. I got already feel the headache subsiding. "Where's Dad?"

"He already left for work," she answered me quietly. For a moment, I respected her. She knew how close I was to my old man but she still tried her hardest. "Isn't he always?" I said, a little too harsh than I intended it to be. "Don't say that, Christopher. At least he tries." She placed a plate in front of me.

I snorted and Mom sighed in defeat.

Mom went back into the kitchen and started making some pancakes with bananas. Just the way I liked them. As she did so, I found my thoughts lingering to how my family used to be. Dad had always been here for me. Ever since I started wearing diapers to the age I started having crushes on girls. Now, he rarely comes back and to top it all together, he is becoming more like a stranger to us. I may be the only child in this family but I needed love too. It's like all I have now is Mom but I always ignored her. I am much closer to my dad, not my mom.

Mom used to be a singer back when Dad had time for me but she had to quit her dream when Dad didn't have time for me. At the moment, Mom was just an artist but she was still famous. Mom had given up her dream for me.

She took up so much effort to spend time with me but when I reached 15, I became rebellious and started dating. Girls became toys you got bored off after one night. Mom never did anything about it. . .until recently. She started being this supportive and loving parent figure when I turned sixteen. I never appreciated it though. Every time she did any jokes, I would stare at her and turn my back on her. Of course, Mom realized that she was not Dad but she still tries and tries as hard as possible.