Where We Began

Liam Griffin

I feel lost and forgotten in a world that I exist. Everyone around me knows me but, they don't. My mother is so sick to the point that she cannot remember her own family. The family that she made memories of and spent time with.

The family that hides secrets. She called me West when my name is Liam. When I was younger, she would joke about what she would do if she never knew me or gave birth to me. The answer was simple when she said that a part of her heart would be gone. That's how I feel. My heart is torn and broken.

There's nothing to keep it together or hold the falling parts. I sometimes wish that I could go back to when my father didn't make me feel like shit or my brother look down on me. My own family that I thought would be by my side betrayed me. There's nothing that I can hold to call mine.

The only person that makes me upset to think about and makes me uneasy is Hayden. She is an imperfect person like me. Her hair and her personality are flawless to me no matter what because I look past her flaws.

Nobody takes the time to do that in life these days. It's only about rich people or people that wish they were them. The little things that made people happy weren't enough anymore.

When she didn't say my name, I wanted to hang up. I wanted to yell and scream at the world. She's losing herself. There's nothing I can do. "I was just joking," she played it off cool on the other end.

Deep down, my mother knew it was only a matter of time before everything slipped through her palm. "Mom, it's Liam. My name is Liam. Your son, remember?" I could not seem to stand straight earlier with my eyes so blurred. Kids were playing at the playground with happy smiles and giggles with their parents. Then there was me, barely able to control the tears slipping down my face.

This place was supposed to make her better, not shorten her time. The fees and money my father paid upfront the first time left a hole in his wallet. She kicked and screamed that day.

My father took her out of our house. I was trailing behind with her hands in mine. My mother begged my father not to. She didn't want to become what was taking over her. Some days she wouldn't be able to find her way home from working as a receptionist.

Eventually, The once happy day turned depressing. My father had slammed the car door with her hitting the car seats. She knew the fight was over. All my mother could do was make a promise she will be home one day. That day hasn't come.

I heard her pause for quite a while yesterday on the phone. She was unsure of what to say. "Oh. I can't wait to see you. Are you excited to be a senior next year?" she had asked. My hand had to push the phone some spaces from me to sob into my hand. I brought it back after a couple of seconds.

"I'm going to be graduating in two months, mom," I say between my cries. I wasn't ashamed of crying before. That's the only thing that ever stays with me. It was starting to get dark.

"Sweetie, don't cry. Don't cry for me," she told me. My hands were back at my hair, pulling with everything I wanted to tell. It wouldn't be worth it if she's going to forget about it.

"I gotta go. I love you." I hanged up that early evening. The day after that, I didn't go to school. My father came into my room after I tried to pretend that I was sick. He yelled and cursed. It wasn't like I gave two fucks. The rain was brewing a storm outside. From my window, leaves were in the air.

The smell of rain was seeping into my room. My father was so upset that he stopped caring. He got in his expensive car for work and left. I left my room to reach the coldest part of the house, my mom's room. She loved looking outside, which is why the windows were twice as large with curtains that turned old and a room, that's left quiet. You may ask yourself why my father doesn't sleep here.