Room 537

Chapter 2

"Hi mom." I say into the telephone that's mounded to the wall. Her eyes are puffy and bloodshot as if she just finished crying. The scars still haven't faded from her wrists. They look better than the day I found her at least. I don't think I'll ever forget how she looked that Monday afternoon after school. I was 12 at the time. Her eyes were wide open. Her left arm hung out of the bathtub covered in blood. I thought I had lost her that day. According to doctors if that slice would've gone any deeper or if I would've arrived a few minutes later she would've been gone. Just the thought of losing my mother is unbearable. I can't imagine what would've happened if she actually passed.

She's like my soulmate. Obviously not romantically, because that's disgusting. We're like mother and son soulmates. Is that even a thing? My mother means the world to me and I've let her down.

"Hi my baby." That's one of the things I'll always love about my mom. No matter what I'll always be her baby. She'll always greet me with the biggest smile on her face and when we're not separated by a stupid piece of glass, she'll give me the warmest hug. I hate that she's being treated like a criminal here. If anyone's a criminal here, it's me. Mom is just someone who got let down. And she's about to again. By me.

"How are you feeling?" She asks me. I sigh. Her eyebrows are furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"There's uh there's something I need to tell you mom." I stare at my hands as I start to fiddle with them. How do you start conversations like this?

"I'm... I'm um. Well you see, I..." Fuck. I knew this would be hard, but I didn't think it would be this hard. How do you do this?

"I... I... I'm so sorry mom." I rest my head on my arms. What if she hates me after this? What is she refuses visits from me? What if-

"Baby. You're overthinking it. Take a deep breath." So I do. I take a few actually.

"Remember what I told you when you were younger?"

"Don't drink the bleach or you'll die."

"No."

"Don't drink sanitizer or you'll die."

"No."

"Don't drink- "

"It has nothing to do with drinking or dying."

"Then I don't remember."

She sighs, still with a smile on her face. "Nothing you do can ever make me leave you. Stop overthinking it. Talk to me."

I take a few more deep breaths. "I'm getting sent to a reformatory school."

She stays silent at first. It's like I can feel my words sinking inti her brain. She's trying to come up with the best possible response. Like she always does.

"Which school are you going to?" She ends up asking.

"Florida School for Boys. I'm going to be there for about 6 months. If I'm lucky. They could keep me there as long as I want if they don't see a change in my behavior."

"Behavior?" She asks. I found it best not to tell my mom about all the shit I've caused since she's been in hospital. She already has so much to deal with. I don't want to be a burden to her more than I already am.

I just nod my head.

"I'm listening Charlie."

"Things have been really hard since you left."

She sighs. I knew it. I disappointed the one person who had faith about me. The only person I have left in life. The person who's been there for me since the beginning. I disappointed her.

"How bad is it?"

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

"Drug dealing." I speak. There's so much more I want to tell her. So much more I need to tell her, but I don't because I don't think I can. There's only so much you can say to a person before they break, and I think my mom's on the verge of breaking. I pushed her to her breaking point.

"Baby. I know things have gotten tough since I've come here but... drugs? Crime? That's not you. Why'd you, do it?"

"When you left so did the money. We can barely afford rent anymore and it's not like he's going to get a job. We would've been homeless if I didn't do anything. I didn't have a choice. It started off as just painkillers. Everything was under control when it was just painkillers then it became cannabis the LSD which I could still handle. Then in the blink of an eye I was dealing weed and meth and coke. I... I... I." I don't know when I started crying. I don't know when I started rambling. It just spilled out of me but I'm glad it did. My mom deserves to know. My tears feel like fire on my face. I'm not a crier, never have been. I've spent most of my life bottling up my emotions because I was so bad at expressing myself. So now whenever I do express emotions, it's intense. I'm angry to the point where I'm physical, sad to the point where I'm locked in a trance, and happy to the point of... of... actually I don't know. I don't think I've ever experienced a true form of pure happiness. Every time I get close, I mess it up... I mess everything up.

"Charlie... Take a deep breath for me. It's okay." She says tears threatening to spill out of her own eyes. "You're going to be okay."

I look at my mother and the slits on her wrists. I look at her chest moving up and down as she breathes, and I believe it will be okay.

Chanel Calloway is living proof that everything will be okay in the end. Those slits on her wrists. Her smile is a reminder that there are good days lying ahead. Her breathing is a reminder that I'm stronger than I think.

My mom manages to calm me down like she always does and like she always will. Things have been a little hectic lately to say the least, but I know I'll be okay. Mom will be okay. I can do this. I've never been to a reformatory school, but I'll be away from my dad. How bad could it be? I need to be. For mom. I need to be okay for mom.