Burden

*-Chapter five-*

As I step out of the hospital, I take a moment to breathe in the fresh air, allowing the weight of the recent events to settle. A heavy sigh escapes me, and I find myself gazing up at the night sky, letting a few stray tears fall. With a gentle swipe, I wipe them away, feeling a mix of emotions. Taking my time to absorb the surroundings, I decide to call a cab to take me home. The night air feels both soothing and somber, and I take a lingering pause before moving forward.

The cab pulls up, stepping in i tell the guy my address, ignoring the small chitchat. i rest my head on the window. time passes by, once i notice my house i get money out and hands it to him "thanks" i try to say but it comes out more of a silent whisper. stepping out of the vehicle i make my way toward my door. oh, and its open. i must have left it open. walking toward to the sink i grab the equipment to clean the bathroom.

Each step feels unusually heavy as I make my way up the stairs. On the ascent, every picture I had once put up to bring a smile to my mother's face during my younger years comes into view. The weight of the memories adds to the gravity of the situation.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I notice blood in the hallway. Despite my apprehension, I begin cleaning the stained surfaces, my mind racing with concerns. Moving to her room, I start cleaning her bed, each movement weighed down by a mix of fear and determination. The bathroom, however, remains a daunting challenge, and the thought of tackling it leaves me paralyzed with fear.

Finally, the bed it all clean. I just sit there while looking at the bathroom entrance. I could I let this happen again.

When I was little my parents got into the major fight over some thing, dad stormed out when mum just raised her hand at him and went to get a glass. Little me stood in the doorway watching my mum just stand there crying, occasionally she would either have a sip of wine or wipe her eyes. I was too scared to go towards her and ask if she okay, she was prone to lashing out at other people, so I thought the next best thing was to go into our "storage" cupboard and grab the box of photos and blutack them to the wall on the stairs. Little me decided it was best to not add any photos of my dad, why?, who even knows. That's all I did that night, so when I woke up to flashing light and my mother being rolled out in a gurney, I blamed myself becuase all I did that night was hang up some crappy photos.

My mum blamed me, I didn't know why, I also don't know who gave her the right to blame me even if it was my "fault" she's alive or if it was my fault she want to die. I don't know who called the ambulance nor did I care.

Shaking away the memories, I grab the bucket and make my way inside, getting on my knees I begin scrubbing the floor then moving onto the bath tub. Once I was finished, I moved downstairs to put the bucket of cleaning supplies away. Just giving myself a second to breathe, the realisation dawns on me, my hands are covered her blood. Quickly racing up the stairs I walk into my bathroom strip and jump into the shower.

I let the warm water soothe my skin before I begin to scrub my arms, hands, and face. I don't know why but I let my emotions take the best of me and I let out another gut wrenching sob. Standing under the water waiting for the tears to run dry, once they do is when I decide to get out.

Turning off the water, I dry myself and change into pyjamas before snuggling into my bed letting sleep overcome me.

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Unedited