My Aching Solace

06. Probable conflict

With a gasp, I'm suddenly jolted awake in my bed, my heart racing and my breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. As I sit up, I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead and running down my back. Automatically, my hand moves to my stomach, tracing the faint, diagonal scar that serves as a reminder of the trauma I experienced just a few months ago. Still there and true. Despite my attempts to calm myself, my breathing remains uneven and ragged. Finally, I take a deep breath and drop my shirt, running my hands through my hair to push back the strands that have fallen into my eyes.

I don't remember anything from that night. That accident. Nothing. I don't even know what I was doing outside at that time of the night, because apparently there was a huge snowstorm. It's all a void and even the days after it are a blur. It's like it was switched off from my memory as if my mind wanted to forget what happened on that cold winter night. But unlike my mind, my body didn't forget. The scar on my stomach is still there, but barely visible. It nearly killed me.

I take in a deep breath, before slowly blowing the air out, as I am still shaken up by how I woke up; as if I was dying. I repeat the process a couple of times, before checking my phone to look at what time it is. I groan in annoyance when I realize that I have five minutes left before my alarm rings and that I have to get ready for school.

At least now that the end of the school year is approaching, we don't do much in the lessons anymore. We barely have any tests and homework to give in which I am grateful for because now at least I can spend some time living with my friends. And not just existing. Especially since summer is now here and the holidays are only two weeks from now on.

After getting ready, I walk down the stairs and head to the kitchen, only to see my mother making a fruit salad for herself. She gives me a side glance, barely acknowledging me and I force myself to say good morning, which she returns. I make myself a cup of coffee, before sitting down at the kitchen island and looking up at my mother.

She changed since the accident. Although she never made the effort to hide her disappointment in me or even give me a single comment without any hint of criticism, it was never like this. Now, it's as if she despises me and seizes every opportunity to push me further into a pit of disappointment. When she was close to losing me, it flipped a switch in her. She became cold like I didn't matter anymore and I don't know why.

The first few weeks our relationship even seemed to have improved slightly. But as time went on, she became increasingly detached and ignored me more often. She was always out with friends or drinking, barely acknowledging my existence anymore. I was just...there.

Probably just a constant reminder of the pain I have caused her because of the accident.

"I have a meeting tonight so I will not be around to make dinner and eat with you or your father." She informs me. "Greet Thomas for me, will you ?"

I nod, keeping my head low until I hear her walk out to probably leave for work. Less than a minute later I hear the front door close and I let out a deep sigh, one I have been holding since I saw her. I never know when she will suddenly explode and start yelling at me for making a stupid, insignificant mistake, and my dad knows it too. He has been distancing himself from her, and I feel so ridiculous for saying this, but I am glad he did. At least the constant yelling and arguing in the house stopped. Most of the time.