The Pale Visitor

7.

*Next week Monday*

I glanced at the clock, confirming it was 4:30 AM. I hadn't slept all night, the pain in my left knee keeping me awake. Each time I drifted towards sleep, a sharp sting jolted me back to consciousness. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I carefully made my way downstairs, recalling where I'd left my pills last.

As I navigated past the dining room table, my right foot slipped on a liquid, causing me to lose balance momentarily. Gripping a chair handle, I steadied myself and followed the spill to find my mother passed out on a chair, an empty vodka bottle in hand, the remainder of its contents pooling on the floor.

"Of course," I whispered, not like it mattered; she wouldn't hear me even if I shouted. Spotting the orange pill bottle on the kitchen counter, I treaded cautiously, using the chairs for support. Finally reaching it, I carefully opened the bottle and popped a single pill into my mouth.

There's only a handful left. I need to ration them until my mom decides to act like a mom and get a refill. I leaned over the sink, filling my mouth with water from the faucet and swallowed the pill.

I stayed in the kitchen until the pill kicked in. I felt the sun come up casting an orangish hue through the white curtains on my hand. I was just watching my mother sleep with her back turned to me. I saw her hand start to twitch letting me know she was waking up, the bottle slipping out of her grasp and shattering on the floor. She quickly looked down at the mess she made and took a deep breath placing a hand on her head.

"Morning, Mom!" I called out loudly, knowing she likely had a headache.

Startled, she jumped in her seat, turning to face me. "What the fuck, Azariah?" she groaned, shaking her head. I didn't respond, watching her as she slowly got up to fetch the broom from the corner.

"Are you going to the parent-teacher conference tomorrow?" I knew she didn't remember but I needed something to say to her that will bother her. Truthfully, I didn't even want her to go; she never goes, I just want her to feel guilty for once

"What parent-teacher conference?" she started sweeping the broken glass away into the dustpan.

"I told you about it last week," I lie, she got an email so she should still know

"I don't remember that," she dismissed

"You never remember anything when it comes to me"

"Stop with this nonsense, Azariah. My head is killing me right now"

"What time is the chosen one coming back home today?" I prodded, referring to my brother.

"Don't call your brother that" she scolded

Why can't I get that perfect mom?

Why couldn't she care enough to put on an act for me?

Why was he so special?

Why?

Why?

Why?

"What time is it? You should be getting ready for school," she redirected, emptying the dustpan into the trash can.

"I cleaned my room, by the way," I said quietly. I didn't actually clean it, just wanted to see if she would respond but she didn't. I grabbed the pill bottle and retreated upstairs. I didn't want to keep coming downstairs for it.

_______

Every Monday morning, instead of advisory in homeroom, the entire school assembled in the auditorium for announcements or speeches. Today, Principal Ms. Tucker took the stage. After a motivational speech about perseverance, she paused and made a startling announcement.