Stroke

Chapter 24: Ian

Ian's POV:

My feet had a mind of their own, they were carrying me effortlessly against the linoleum tiles; my brain went into momentary shut down - as much as I tried coming up with coherent thoughts I failed; the only thought going through my haywire brain was mom's condition.

The heavy feeling of guilt settled on my chest, like a massive rock constricting my breathing and for a moment I thought I might succumb to a dreary panic attack; the ones I always fought to pull my angel out of.

I was petrified of what awaited me on the other side of the door. The nurse stood by my side giving me cautious sympathetic looks. I didn't need her sympathy. I didn't need anyone's sympathy.

"Please be careful with her she's very vulnerable right now especially with the drugs in her system." The nurse pressed carefully only receiving a nod of acceptance from my part.

She gave a curt knock on the door, then plunged the key into the keyhole. My breath was hitched in my throat the worry and dread heavy in my system.

With just a tiny turn I was flung into my reality. The reality that I could never be pulled out of – the misery that was my life, the peace was only momentary with Violet and I feared for her. I was like a ticking time bomb so close to exploding and the horror of Violet being in my field while exploding was suffocating, she couldn't be a causality of my misery filled life. She was an angel.

Maybe her parents were right to try pushing me away from her precious self.

I shook my head to try thrashing the thoughts away, at least for the time being – I had more important matters to be concerned about.

My gaze met my mother's form hunched over in a chair staring straight ahead through the window, admiring the beauty of the nature enclosing the rehab.

A pang of pain hit my chest as I saw how empty and void her sea blue eyes were. Those eyes once shone with joy. The eyes that provided me sanctuary as a child and assured me that I would always be safe and happy in her arms.

Her form was adorned in a huge woollen shawl even though the room wasn't that cold. Her hair and body had thinned out from persistence against food. Dark circles lay heavy under her eyes.

I took notice of the other chair positioned towards the window too.

"Mom." I called out hoping to pull her out of her reverie and thankfully I was able to; she turned to gaze at me with wonder then suddenly her eyes lit up with recognition.

"I-Ian." She croaked out her voice hoarse from either lack of use or hours of vain screaming, "Come, come." She ushered me over opening her arms widely for me.

I felt slight peace wash over me that she was at least able to remember who I was; pain struck me as I remembered the time she was unable to even fathom who I was but after what seemed like an eternity she was able to recognise me and started apologising profusely and showering me in kisses which I accepted with open arms.

I took long strides to reach her letting her envelope me in her thinning arms. I could feel all my worries dissipating into thin air. I was craving this hug.

"Why didn't you come visit me earlier? I thought you didn't want to see me again, my baby boy." Mom's voice was hoarse with thick emotions her eyes gurgling with unshed tears.

I could feel the horrendous feeling of guilt hit me full force again. I knew that I was late for my visit but I always found a huge difficulty in seeing my mother here, in a rehab. The realisation of how much I failed her and dad always dawned on me and the ache I felt was almost unbearable.