Lost [ENG]

𝟑. 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆

My mother, in her dressing gown and with her eyes narrowed to slits, looked at me dazed, probably wondering both why I was there, instead of sleeping at my house, and above all why I wasn't with Marisha.

"Matthew ..." she muttered tiredly. "What's going on, sweet heart?"

"Can I stay here tonight?" I asked. As I said this, my mom didn't hesitate a second, and dragged me into my childhood house.

We sat down in the kitchen and she immediately brought me some clean, dry clothes. They were my old clothes, abandoned in my mother's dusty house for lack of space in my current home: a Rick and Morty t-shirt and Lakers shorts, a team I had cheered on for less than a year, but my nerdy soul couldn't stop itself from buying the shorts right away. I put them on quietly, and then my mother asked me if I wanted something to drink.

"Water, mom, just water" I answered, exhausted. I began to feel the effects of the hard liquor I had just drunk. My mother noticed it and brought me a glass of water, full to the brim, which I finished all in one breath.

I felt she wanted to ask me something but she knew very well she wouldn't get many answers from my introverted and quiet soul, even though my BCA was way over the limit allowed to drive.

"Do you need anything else, sweety?" she asked, running her hand gently through my tousled hair.

"I just need to sleep" I answered. I got up, went to the living room and stretched out on the old sofa. Immediately after my impact with the leather fabric, a light cloud of dust rose, causing me to cough twice. I was no longer used to that old sofa and its imperfections, which my mother had never thought of remedying. She said she reminded her of my father.

"I'm going to get you a blanket," my mother said, always remaining calm and contained. From this point of view, my mother and I have always been opposites. I was grateful, though, because if we had both been tormented by emotional storms whenever something had gone wrong, we would have been freaking out now.

I turned to my left side facing the floor, put my arm so it covered my eyes and then snorted, tired of all the questions that had been tangled in my head for those hours.

My mother returned soon after with a blue blanket in her hand.

She opened it and put it on me.

"Try to rest Matthew, and remember tomorrow is a new day" she said, caressing my forehead.

I didn't answer her, but just smiled. I'm sure she understood.