THE LONE MAN

What's the point

It's always been this way, always just me, or at least it was until I met her. Her name was Julia. She had the most beautiful crystal blue eyes that I could easily get lost in, she had light blonde hair that tumbled down her back like a wave from the ocean, she had the palest porcelain skin. I was so lucky to have married her. Our kids took their looks off her, they were stunning. However, I don't have her anymore, she's not dead or anything but she left me. Filed for divorce. Took our kids with her. OUR kids and I don't get to see them at all now. So now it's just me again. I've been kicked out of my home so I have to live with my mother again, she's not even my real mother, she's my foster mother. I'm thirty-five and I have to move back in with the woman that raised me as her own.

The drive to my 'mothers' house was quiet and lonely. It's not until now that I realise how little possessions I own. It's sad really in my thirty five years on this earth I have two cardboard boxes and a plastic bag full of stuff to show for it. It's not even like I have a great job to live for. I'm stuck in a dead end job stacking crates at a supermarket. I arrive at my childhood home where I have my so called happy memories, like the time I failed my exams or the time I tried to kill myself, yeah happy. My mother made me see a psychiatrist after my suicide attempt and it was then that I was diagnosed with depression. And yet here I am standing on my front step ready to go back to my old bedroom. I heard the familiar buzz off the TV when I entered the house I glanced around the empty hallway. I look at the walls which through time the paint has became discoloured and has started to peel. I walked slowly forward and hung my keys next to my mothers. I tip toe through the darkened hallway and look into the livingroom which was illuminated by the faint glow off of the television. Unsurprisingly I see my mother sitting in the same dusty rose coloured armchair like she did when I was little. She sees me before I could back away and head up to my room. I watch as she grins like the Cheshire Cat at my presence, my choice to come back home to her.
"You came back!"she squealed gleefully.
"Of course it's not like I have anywhere else to go."I forced a laugh at the end of my sentence to make it seem light hearted.
"Oh stop being so negative and come give me a hug." I laughed at her wording 'stop being so negative' the same four words I have heard since I was fifteen, at least once a month.

I step forward and opened my arms in order to give my mother a hug. She took this opportunity to practically tackle me, enveloping me into the tightest embrace I have felt in years. You would never have guessed the a sixty-two year old woman would be so strong.
"The kettles just boiled"she told me as she let me go. I sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile. I then left the livingroom and wondered to the kitchen where I made myself a tea. It's as if I never left. After my tea I carefully walked up the creaking staircase and towards my old bedroom that will become mine once again. I unpacked the few things I had and sat on my bed. I took in my surroundings the walls were still the boring blue colour they always had been except now the were slightly duller, the floor was still the cold laminate just like it was when I left all they years ago, the bedding was different it was changed from black covers to white, the curtains still hung on the boring metal pole that was the same as when I was teenager. I took out my prized possession and put it in the drawer next to bed, it was wrapped in a t-shirt though so no one could see what I held most dear.

I felt like a child again with my mother fussing over me the only difference was that I drove her places instead of it being the other way around. Things were eventually getting back to normal. I drove her to the doctors as she had been having a lot of headaches recently. I sat in the waiting room looking at my phone waiting on something happening when my mother came out of the doctors room with tears streaming down her face. My first reaction was to get up and walk over to her. I said nothing I just put my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. I heard her say in a weak voice "can we go to the car" all I did was nod and lead her back to my car. I asked her what was wrong and that's when she told me, that's when tears pricked my own eyes threatening to spill over, that's when my heart broke and my world collapsed around me. The three words I never wanted to hear her say "I have cancer" I could hear it repeating in my head, over and over and over again a constant reminder that nothing can go well in my life. We got home and tried to carry on as normal but it was hard knowing that the only mother I had even known had a timer ticking down to her inevitable death.

The cancer got worse over time. She refused treatment and it wasn't long until she was in hospital and was waiting for death. I visited her everyday and cried most days when I did. The house was empty without her I spent most of my time in the hospital now. In the spotless waiting room. With the white walls that are an assault to everyone's eyes. That's when I heard it. The beeping got slower. The doctors were rushing into her room, my eyes darted around in panic. I ran into the room and seen her lying there, no colour in her usually rosy cheeks, her chocolate brown eyes were closed. They started the chest compressions to keep her heart pumping. I felt a tear roll down her cheek, I didn't even realise I was crying. I listened as the beeps got slower and slower until the eventually became one solid shriek that implied death. My foster mother was dead. The doctors attempted to comfort me but I couldn't hear a word they said all I could hear was the solid tone coming from the heart beat monitor. My legs weakened and my heart fell, my breath escaped my body and before I knew it I was running. I ran for what felt like forever, my legs burned and my lungs felt like they weren't in my body. I got to my car and cried on the way home.

I got home and bolted to my room. I picked out my prized possession and unwrapped it. The metal was cold and heavy. I press the cool metal to my temple as my finger twitches on the trigger I thought to myself
"what's the point, I'm all alone now and after all one bullet is a lifetime supply"

BANG.