Our Mental Love

Chapter 1

I look at my mom. She falls lazily on the floor. "SONNN!!!" She grabs her wine bottle and throws it on the ground. My mom chugs down another bottle. "How dare you!!!"

I sit on my bed and stare at the scratched floor. "LOOK AT ME BITCH!" I stare at my mom's scarred feet. She steps on the glass and moves close to me. The floor fills with blood immediately. I stifle a small cry. My mom grabs another empty bottle and throws it at the wall. The pieces shatter in splinters. I shut my eyes and pray for this to be over. My mom throws a bottle near me and then I hear sirens.

* * *

I stir to the sound of machinery. I sit up confused but someone gently pushes me down. "Sweetie, please rest for a while okay?"

The voice is sweet and kind. I look around and see a nurse smiling at me. She pats my back lightly and leaves the room. I see tons of machinery and hear lots of beeping noises. I sigh in despair. Someone knocks on the door even though it's already opened.

"Hey Darren,"says my close friend, Zach. I wave and he fakes a smile. "It's hard living with her isn't it?"Zach asks politely. "Yep. It's hard."

I look out of the window and see my reflection. I look like my mom. I look like a boy version of her. I shut my eyes and Zach looks at me worried. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head. "No it's just that I look exactly like my mom." Zach laughs slightly even though it wasn't even that funny. He hands me a box. "It's some stuff from your house I thought you would want."

Zach smiles and I open the box. It has loads of pictures. I skim and scam through them. My eyes land on a picture of me and my dad at a baseball game. He's holding a signed baseball and I stand in front of him. Zach watches me with kind and gentle eyes.

I miss my dad so terribly. He was my highlight to my days. But after mom became stressed, they always fought. And they weren't silly ones either. They threw stuff and once my mom threw a knife at him. He caught it but then killed his own self. I never realized he was suicidal. My dad never seemed like that type of person.

Since then my mom would always drink and she always became drunk. I hated it. She made the head titles of newspapers a few times. Everyone avoided me after that. All their parents said not to hang out with the crazy mom's son.

Zach looks at me and I stare at my dad. "Dad?"I whisper to myself. Zach still looks at me longer than I expected. I look at him with my eyes and he turns away. I put the picture back in the box and close it. "Thank you Zach." I smile at him and I think he blushes. It's heard to tell with the dim lighting. I tuck the box away on the side table.

Zach pats my bed and walks out. "See ya later Darren." He waves and I wave back. The same nurse quickly bustles in. "Sweetie I'm sorry to break the news to you but your mother..."

Died. She had to.

"She will be taken care of, in a mental facility."says the kind nurse. I look at her and she's surprised by the look of it. "Aren't you upset young man?"she asks. "No." I hesitate before I say the next sentence. "Couldn't have been better."

The nurse looks very stunned. She smiles at me kindly though. "Well with a mother like that..." She doesn't finish her sentence. She pats my leg and leaves the room. I hear the sound of heavy footsteps upon the ground. I grab the box again. I flip the lid off and a piece of paper flutters to the ground. I stretch down to reach it. The paper touches my fingers lightly. "Sweetie you need to rest." The nurse was joined with a doctor. The doctor whispered something to her. The doctor grabbed a clipboard and he started to write something. I quickly climb out of my bed and grab the piece of paper.

The nurse looks at me and nods her head toward me. I nestle in my bed. The doctor walks away quickly. The nurse starts to walk toward me. "Please don't leave your bed. You must rest." Her voice doesn't sound so sweet anymore. Her tone is serious. I lay back and crinkle the paper in my fist. She watches me closely and slowly leaves the room. Instantly I uncrinkle the paper. The ink is faded.

I sigh and slam my head on the bed frame. My head pounds by the sudden impact. The paper is cut unevenly. I try my hardest best to read it. But I only made out this much.

He...I love...I wanted to sav...to protect him...he is my son...I love him...he deser...afte...his father...

That's all I could make out. The ink is typed instead of handwritten. The only names I see are "I", "my", and "he". I place the paper back in the box and put it away. Could that have been from my mom? But she never loved me. But a father was mentioned. I slap my head. She never loved you. But a voice in the back of my mind tells me she did. But she killed your dad. The picture of my dad sprouts in my mind. His smile was kind and warm. He would never kill himself.