Finding Mafia

Unforeseen Conclusions

My body jolts and rises from the bed, my surroundings are disorienting as I try to adjust to what's around me. The sweat is stuck to my face as hot beads run down the side of my face clinging to my skin, falling from my forehead all the way down to my jaw. My breathing is short and hitched. The feeling of my heart pounding against my chest wall catches my focus.

I haven't dreamed about him since I moved to the city. The thoughts returning only bring about more anxiety about the phone call I received today, no doubt they are correlated. Peace is something I am not allowed to know it seems. My mind is playing tricks on me, allowing silence for just a moment before the swell of noise and bustling return.

Picking myself up from the bed, I walk over the kitchen cabinets. They are relatively bare, but fortunately enough I get good enough tips from the bar, that I have been able to keep a relatively good enough stock of food and necessities around for when I need them.

Grabbing a glass from the shelf, I fill the glass up with cold tap water. The first sip gets stuck in my throat. It lands on top of my closed airway, but the cold soothes the tense muscles and allows them to relax, leading to an adequate sip. Slowly I can feel my heart rate slow down to its normal thumping. Taking in my first deep breath I close my eyes.

As soon as I do, the only thing that fills the void is Joey. The image hits me right where it hurts. The pain it erupts in my chest and stomach are enough to make my throat threaten to close once more. Nausea takes over my senses as the vivid images engulf my thoughts.

The image of Joey has plagued my mind for years, since I first saw it. It tends to only be in times of trouble, like now. When I have so much on my mind I can't focus on just one. He invades my sleep for days, sometimes weeks. Those have been some of my hardest and trying times.

But now with this call from my mother, my mind is in shambles. My first instinct is to call Delilah. So I do.

Although I know what outcome is going to come as I hear the final ding before her voicemail. She went home with someone from the club last night and I am sure she is nursing off a hangover right now. I don't blame her, she has her own troubles to worry about and hardly needs my worries as her own.

I know who I want to call, but I can't bring myself to do it. It revolves so much explaining and I just can't bring myself to even think about it, let alone talk to someone about it.

Reluctantly I find myself raising my phone to my ear. "Hey."

What Isabelle said back in the bar earlier tonight is repeating in my head.

"I know you haven't seen or heard from your mom in a long time and I know that I don't know anything about your relationship or why she called, but no matter the circumstances you'll always regret it if you don't hear her out."

Thinking about going to see mom makes me sick to my stomach. But I take into consideration what Bell said and deep down, I know she is right. If she would have never called and I never knew whether she was dead or alive it wouldn't have made a difference, but the fact that now I know she is alive and where she is at, it makes all the difference. I would forever wonder, without having any of the answers to my never ending list of questions.

Making the decision to see her is hard and not one I put lightly, but I know that I need to for my own self and piece of mind. I also know that there is only one person I want to go with me.