Life Of A British African Teenager | ✔️

Chapter 11- (It gets better)

Awakening to a cloud of sadness, fatigue, and a general sense of unease, I realize that "not good" would be an understatement. Sleep eluded me, and the weight of what Aunt Bridgette revealed about Mom last night hangs heavy. The revelation of her depression, stemming from the divorce and manifesting in drinking, smoking, and self-harm, shocks me. How could I not have seen this? I should have been there for her.

Aunt Bridgette is taking me to the hospital to visit Mom. Time is ticking; it's already 10 AM. My morning routine is briskly executed. Slipping into a pair of blue jean shorts and an oversized pink t-shirt, I slide into some comfortable crocs. Two French braids secure my hair, and I make my way downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, Auntie," I greet.

Aunt Bridgette is already settled on the couch, coffee in hand as she's on her phone. "Your food is on the dining table, love. Eat up so we can leave."

With gratitude, I dig into my plate, savoring hot chocolate, scrambled eggs, and avocado toast. It's a feast, yet my thoughts drift to Mom's version of this meal. Finishing quickly, we're ready to go. The journey takes about 45 minutes, and my nerves are on edge. I'm unsure of what to expect.

Arriving at the hospital, I'm greeted by the sight of my mom lying peacefully in bed, her arms bearing painful cuts. My heart aches at the realization that she attempted suicide. Did she even consider me in that moment? I'm overwhelmed by questions about the divorce that led to this. I sit by her side, tightly holding her hands, desperate for answers.

"Leona?" Her weak voice breaks the silence, her normally lively face now pale and worn. Seeing her like this is agonizing.

"Mommy!" I embrace her, and she embraces me back. I place fruits and flowers on the nearby table, offering them to her.

"Thank you, my darling," she says. Amidst her apologies, I cut her off, assuring her that her recovery matters most.

"Once you're better, promise me you'll tell me everything," I implore, and she agrees. The doctor enters, announcing her discharge in two days, granting me time to spend with her before returning to school. As we chat, I share stories of school and my new friends. Eventually, she needs rest, and our visit concludes.

"Love you, Mom. I'll be back tomorrow," I promise, receiving her reciprocated love.

"I love you too, my baby. Take care."

Aunt Bridgette bids her goodbyes, and we depart the hospital. Despite the relief of being home, the weight of Mom's ordeal saddens me deeply.

A call from Cassie informs me of her arrival, prompting me to let her in at the gate.

"Just one day and you already miss me," I tease.

Rolling her eyes, Cassie enters, and I introduce her to Aunt Bridgette before retreating to my room. I provide Cassie vague details about Mom's condition, sharing that she's hospitalized.

"I'm sorry about your mom, Leona. We'll meet when she's back," Cassie sympathizes.

Snacks in hand, we settle in for a movie on Netflix, punctuating the evening with shared selfies posted on social media.

As the night grows late, Cassie takes her leave. I nestle into bed, finally finding the rest I've long needed.

______________________________________

Don't scroll without voting guys.

Thank you for all the love and support ❤️

-Daisy.