[EDITING]
For him, the whole world was on fire except her.
And he didn't let a single flame touch her.
For her, she herself was on fire.
And she protected the whole world from her flames.
Especially him.
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Living with the demons of her past who...
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The sound of glass breaking and the faint music floating around the room wakes me up from sleep, I did not know that overcame. I get back on to my feet and walk out of the room to meet with complete silence. was It just a dream?
I wished it was when I saw blood and pieces of glass all over the kitchen floor. Then I saw my mother sitting on the floor with a newly opened vodka bottle, blood dripping from her wrists and tears flowing down her cheeks.
Ever since last year, my mother had appeared to be weak and fragile. But this is the weakest I have seeing her ever since. She looks like she just heard a gunshot, she looks like she heard the doctor say 'im sorry, she didn't make it', she looks like she just buried her child but most of all she looks like her high school sweetheart and her so-called husband just asked for a divorce in a time she needed him the most. I know she looks like that because I have seen her go through all of it.
"Mom," I say almost in a whisper hoping to get her attention away from the blank wall that held nothing but one single photo frame.
Our family picture.
A picture of me, my father, my mother, my elder brother Noah, my younger brother Jared and my younger sister Nini. A picture of one perfectly happy family.
I felt tears collecting in my eyes and I whisper an 'i'm sorry ' to myself. I look away from the photo frame and looked back at my mother who is still staring at her happy family.
"Mother?" I speak again, a little bit louder.
"Don't you dare call me 'mother'," She said looking away from the picture and gulping down the alcohol.
"We need to cover up your wound. you are losing way too much blood mo-" I stop myself from speaking and slowly walked towards her through the brocked glasses on the floor.
I bend down to the floor next to her and take the bleeding hand in mine. She pushes her hand away from mine and stared right into my eyes. The words she spoke next are nothing new but that's what hurts me the most and I know I fucking deserve it.
"You were supposed to die. Both of the times" she said with gritted teeth and walked away up the stairs into her room.
Those words.
Those two sentences. ringed through my head causing so much pain.
"You think I don't know that mother," I said to myself.
It was supposed to be me. I was the one who was supposed to die. The gunshot sound was supposed to be me pulling the trigger or maybe even it was supposed to be me who the doctors were talking about. I was the one who is supposed to be six feet under.
