Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 36

That night, I moved back into my childhood home. Owen stayed at our home, ensuring me that I need not fret about him. Both he and I know how important it is that I see this through, not just for us, but for my mum.

For three months I've been away from Owen who is now attending our dream university without me. Three months, I've been washing the same tatty pair of clothes, awaiting the dreaded day that we find her peacefully silent, dead. 

Jack was over the moon when I stepped foot back into the family home. He was flying around me, words of ecstasy going straight through my right ear and out of the left. Jeremy not so much because, to him, my arrival signified the true meaning of 'death row' or at least that's how it felt. My mum has been less frightened by what is to come than we have been! Dad suspects it has everything to do with her exhaustion and feeling of despair towards being cared for. My independence and stubborn nature was inherited from my mum. 

Today, she has requested that she and I have a movie marathon in our living room. Last night, she made her wishes clear that she longs for a mother-daughter day with no interruptions from the men of the house. 

Turning to the heavily breathing lady next to me, I wave the control in her face, smiling, "What do you want to start with, mum?" I ask, trying to make the day as enjoyable for her because who knows what will happen next? Squinting at the television, she looks closely, "I'm not too sure, honey. How about we talk for a little while and then decide?" She suggests and I suspiciously agree. 

Nodding, I curl my legs up and face her, "Sure, what's up?" I question, already dreading my co-operation, "Well, I'm not feeling too good today, sweetie," She confesses and reflexively I gasp, opening my mouth to shout my dad but she aggressively hushes me before I can proceed, "I'm okay! Just tired, I promise. I wanted to ask if you're happy." 

Furrowing my eyebrows at her strange question, I nod, "Of course!" I exclaim, "I did blame you for my unhappiness before I married Owen but I'm so grateful now," I reply to her honestly and she chuckles weakly, "I blamed myself, too. I'm glad you're okay now. How is he?" 

Reminiscently I grin, "He's fine. Worried about you but fine. I think I might actually love him, mum," I realise. Both of our jaws slack as the penny drops. I love Owen. A beaming smile stretches across her face as her eyes glisten brighter than they have ever before, "I'm so...so..." Her voice trails off before her eyes droop. Slowly and groggily, her head falls and I gently spin her around so her head is in my lap. Stroking her hair, tears drop from my eyes as she sleeps in my arms. They roll down her forehead and onto the sofa, her breathing evening out as she dreams of peace. 

The medicine that she has been placed on has made her drowsy. It doesn't matter how much sleep she gets at night or even the quality of her slumber, she always drops to sleep throughout the day. It isn't natural or healthy but we've been told to leave her be. It affects almost a quarter or more people who take the drugs, anyway. 

"I love you, mum." 

***

Three quarters of an hour passes by and she finally stirs, "How long was I out?" Are her first words and I smile softly, allowing her to sit up with some assistance and then I flick a strand of hair out of her face, "Only forty-five minutes." 

She looks extremely weak and fragile as her beady eyes raise to meet mine, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Today was supposed to be our day," She consoles me with a gentle rub of my forearm but I shrug her off delicately, "Mum, you've got nothing to apologise for," I reply, "you need the rest." 

Before she can respond with a negative comment about her illness, I spin around to the coffee table and swipe up a hot chocolate, "Here," I hand her the mug, her shaking hands taking it from me reluctantly, "You're okay, just drink it," I smile as she takes a small sip from the ceramic 'Best Mum' mug. I purchased it from my lame primary school for Mother's Day.