A/N- Same policy as Harry's chapter, I know the person featured would not behave this way, create a whole new person for the sake of the story :)
Ethan's POV
'Mum?' I said in disbelief, staring at the woman stood before me.
'Oh, Eth!' She said, walking towards me. How could this be possible?
'Wait! Wait... how do I know it's really you?' I asked. It broke my heart to see the confusion on her face, but I had to be sure.
'You were born on the 20th of June, and you died on... on the 17th of July. Or the 16th, the police weren't sure. You support Chelsea, have done all your life, and you always used to make me sandwiches to take to work when you were little, do you remember? You put it in one of those little brown bags, and made sure I had an apple too. When you knew I had a bad morning, you used to write a message on a little post it note...' She said, breaking down in tears.
'Oh, mum.' I said, hugging her tightly. She cried into my shoulder for a few minutes before wiping her tears and stepping back so she could look at me. She took one of my hands in both of hers, staring down in disbelief as she noticed how much I was shaking. Shit.
'But... you told me you were clean.' She said slowly.
'I know I did. You never believed me, so I don't know why you sound suprised.' I said, laughing, although you could hear the nervousness behind it. 'I haven't been clean for... a while, mum.'
'How long? Since you've been clean?' She asked. I hate that fucking question.
'For more than a couple of days?' I asked. She nodded. 'Not since I was 14.'
'14?' She repeated quietly. 'But you said that, after rehab, that you'd been clean for weeks...'
'I lied. I thought it would get you off of my back, at least for a little while.' I said. I remembered the argument as if it was yesterday. When I came home from rehab, she had known as soon as she looked at me that I hadn't been clean. In fact, I think I was worse then than she had ever seen me before. For somewhere meant to stop people taking drugs, rehab is a remarkably easy place to score some. She'd told me she didn't believe that I was clean, and I got... defensive. Angry. I shoved her. I hate myself for it, and I wish I hadn't, but I shoved her. Nothing had been the same after that. I'd apologised as soon as it happened, and hundreds of times after that, but, once that line has been crossed, you can never go back. I OD'd not long after.
'You didn't have to lie! I could have, I could have helped you, I could have done something.' She said, tears falling again. I hugged her, and she cried into my shoulder. 'It's my fault.' She said quietly.
'What?' I asked.
'It's my fault you're addicted. That you died. I mean, your first time trying drugs was because I was young and stupid and left them where you could find them. I've not exactly been a good mother to you, Eth. Maybe I was at first, when I was clean, but I couldn't even last until you were a teenager before I turned back to drugs. I'm a failure of a mother.' She said.
'No. No, mum, you're not. Well, the drugs you left lying around didn't help, and the whole bringing drug dealers to our flat thing... ok, maybe you could have been better, but so could I. I'm the one who chose to do the things I did, you didn't force me to do anything. It's my own fault I'm such a fucking mess, no one else's. I let you down. I'm the failiure. Don't blame yourself, blame me.'
'But if I had just stayed clean, kept you away from drugs-'
'You can't change that now, mum. You can't change the past, no matter how much you might want to.' I said. It was advice I'd often told other people but something I'd never followed myself. As much as I knew there was no use in it, I still spent hours thinking about my life, and what I would change if I had a chance to do it all again. I would have been a better son, for one thing. With both me and my mum addicts, we couldn't help each other. I can't help but think that, if I was sober, I could have helped her, or, at the very least, not been as much of a burden.
'I know that, Eth. What's done is done, but I still feel responsible.'
'Blaming yourself is just going to end up with you ending up like me. Dead, with no real legacy to be proud of. Promise me you won't blame yourself. Even better, promise you won't use again.' I said. I could see the hesitation in her eyes, wanting desperately to say yes, but not believing that she could do it.
'I promise I'll try, Ethan.' She said. I smiled and hugged her again.
'I'm sorry.' I said, and she just hugged me tighter. That is, until she started changing. She seemed to strech, arms and torso growing longer, and the fabric of her clothes changed beneath my fingertips, from worn cotton to soft silk. She- he laughed, grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving me away, so hard that I fell to the ground. My mother was gone.
'Oh, Eth.' Michael said mockingly, straightening his lapel and brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder. 'You really thought your little test would be enough to prove it was her? Pathetic, really.'
'What the fuck did you do to her?!' I growled.
'Doesn't matter now, darling. You passed the test, congratulations and all of that. Now, quit lying around! You want to get into heaven, don't you?'
I'm gunna kill him as soon as I have the chance, I thought as I stood up to follow him. He deserves it, the self-righteous bastard.
A/N- Sorry for the delay! I've had this chapter half-written for a whole but for some reason I really struggled with the ending. Anyway, I've got a question for you guys- what country do you live in? I'm curious about where the people who read my bs come from. I'm from England, as I'm sure most of you realised from the way I spell 'mum', and I go to Alsager High :).