Behind Closed Doors

Death and Saddness

"Time to wake up" a blank voice invaded my dreams, waking me. I peaked open my eyes to catch my mother's face, grim and tired. No doubt she had a killer hangover. I was surprised she was even walking. She looked at me then turned on her heel and continued on with her morning routine. Hurriedly I got dressed running down the stairs hoping to stash any alcohol I might have missed the night before.

Mornings at our house on good days were hectic and usually rushed. There was never any time for breakfast. There was barely ever enough time for us to get dressed and out the door let alone get to our destination right before we were late. This morning however my mother changed our usual quite routine and broke the silence. "Did you sleep well?" She looked at me when I hadn't answered; the car the only thing making noise in this early morning. Besides the one earphone I had in my ear, but I always had my iPod with me.

"...Fine" I was reluctant to answer. These days I was so close to the edge that I was questioning myself if maybe I should just tell my mother what I do when the sun sets and the moon raises. I knew better, though, she had been through too much why put such a bigger burden on her shoulders.

"That's good because I really have not been sleeping at all" I wonder why? "You know if you need to talk or just need someone there to listen you can come to me I'm always here." my mother was attempting to get me to speak of my feelings and what I have been thinking, but she was failing miserably. Now I was slightly annoyed. My mother did this sometimes after the anniversary, it must remind her that she still has a daughter and for a few days she tries to act like one; it never lasts long.

"I know" it was a quick, hasty response that I spat as I pushed out of our car to have the harsh wind whip against my face; I don't even think the car had fully stopped. I took in a sharp breath and walked up the stairs that led me into the private school I was forced to attend. I walked into the cafeteria and sat down with my set of "friends," my illusion of happiness and being perfectly fine, beginning for the day. The thought of skipping out crossed my mind many times 'Who would notice?' was my argument. I turned up my iPod letting the music soothe me for the time being. My own personal therapists, pumping into my ears, I didn't need a real one if I had my music near, and a good sharp blade.

I never paid any attention in school I found it pointless. It wasn't like I was going to amount up into anything anyways, why try? At the end of the day I sat with my clique quietly watching the clock until it was time for school to be let out. I half-heartedly listened to their trivial boy problems, I was never invited into the conversation so it really didn't matter if I listened or not. I was an invisible soul standing among living creatures who felt and gossiped, who where normal. I glanced towards a group of kids in our grade that were just messing around, they looked stupid and immature, yet I longed to be a part of that group. They didn't care what anyone was thinking of them just having a great time with friends. My brows came together as I watched them I was angered by the scene. I felt pathetic yet nothing at the same time. Luckily for me the bell rang saving me from my own personal hell.

***

I walked in the house to be welcomed by an annoying twenty second delay of a beeping sound. I dropped everything in search of its origin, getting irritated quickly. Ugh what the hell is that?! I let out a frustrated breath looking over at the answering machine finding it blinking wildly. I rolled my eyes it was probably for my mom, but I hit the play button anyways. Beep "hello Ms. Andersen" totally mispronounced out last name "this is Marshall and I would just like to inform you that your mother, Lily Andersen, is currently in the hospital." "There was a terrible crash an−" I fell to the ground, tears rolling down my cheeks, no longer listening to the rest of the message. I regained my composure long enough to get back in my car. I sat there for a while staring off into space wild scenarios running through my head of what could have happened. The last one struck me hard. The words, 'she was drunk', left me in one breath. My hands clutched the steering wheel, and tears welled in the corner of my eyes as I took off for the hospital driving recklessly not caring about the law, or anything for that mattered. The thought of my mother not living anymore haunted me. I needed to make sure that she was still alive. I couldn't lose her. My mother was the only thing I had left that I cared about, that I loved.