THE TECHNOLOGIST

IF ONLY I COULD...

* * * JACOB'S P.O.V * * *

I looked at my watch, it was nearing 06:40. University was waiting for me. I cringed at the thought of it. University was dreadful, really dreadful. That damned Python teacher liked making our lives miserable.

"Mom!" I called out to her, "I have to get going, I'll see you later!" I snatched my backpack from the sofa and shrugged it on. I got no reply so I made my way to the bedroom to check on her

It was happening again. She was sprawled on top of the bed in a coughing frenzy.

I felt my chest constrict at the sight in front of me. My throat tightened and I felt a stinging in my eyes. I nearly cried. The air was thick with the smell of sweat. The room itself was blazing hot and the sad part was that the grease stained windows couldn't open.

I rushed over to the side of the bed, losing my backpack along the way. Dropping to my knees I touched her head. It was hot. Pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear I looked at her beautiful face, once bright and full of life, now all torn up into an ugly, agony-filled scowl. It made me frown in heartbreak, causing my heart to increase its beat.

Her blue eyes had turned a shade darker, mimicking the blue of the deepest of seas, and her cheeks — they were visibly hollow. I was worrying. I was not one to buckle under pressure, but mom's state had my hands shaking. I was benumbed.

I stood up, swallowing the big lump in my throat and rushed out of the bedroom. I stopped in the hallway and looked to my right where a few feet away lay the white bathroom door, adjacent to the bedroom door.

I couldn't waste any more time. I hurried to the bathroom. Mom did a really good job at cleaning it. When we first arrived it had a nasty stink to it, now it smelt of pine gel and and the thin scent of lavender detergent.

I ran to the bath, taking two face towels and running cold water on one. They were as rough as they came, showing just how badly we needed new toiletry. I heaved a sigh, leaving the room.

I flipped her over, laying her on her back. I saw the sweat dripping off her face. She had begun to shake violently, she almost looked like a sylinium addict refused their daily fix. I took the damp cloth and lay it on her forehead. I wiped her sweat-streaked face with the other.

She frowned as she took in my worried expression. She hated it when I saw her like that. She would always hide in the bathroom whenever the coughs started, but today they were worse. They were no ordinary coughs. I could hear that the throat was raspy and dry. The sounds she made squeezed my heart to great extremes.

She raised her left hand and touched my cheek, all the while giving me a sad smile. "G-Go to school, Jacob. I'll be - I'll be fine, I pro-promise." She managed to croak out. Pausing a little to swallow. Her voice was rough and scratchy, almost sounding sore and parched.

She flinched a few times when she spoke and I instantly wanted to hold her tight and never let go. To tell her that everything would be fine and she would bounce back like she always did. I couldn't understand why Iragon could be so cruel to her after everything she had been through. Wasn't it enough?

"No, mom, you won't be fine. I'm not going to university today. I'll stay here with you. Take care of you," I said stubbornly, still continuing to wipe her face. I left a small peck on her cheek when I was done.

"Listen to me, Jacob. Go get your education, get a job and then you'll have plenty of time to take care of me. Ok?" She coughed a few times. In the end she gave me that damned sad smile again. I cringed and shut my eyes from the sore sight she exhibited. Seeing her like that tugged at my soul. I took a deep long breath as I considered.