Artbeat

Chapter XVIII

- CARSON -

I got off the bus and onto the familiar streets, the tiredness in my legs and mind slightly dissipating, replaced by a sense of familiarity and a little bit of comfort.
I had been away for only a few hours, but the emotional weight of everything my father told me had made it feel like an eternity.

As I walked through my neighborhood, the familiar streets and houses seemed to blur together. My mind was still reeling from the conversation with my father, and I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my stomach.

I turned the corner onto my street, and my eyes scanned the houses, searching for the familiar sight of my own home. That's when I saw her - my mother, sitting on the porch, her head laid on her legs, clasped together with her hands. She was motionless, and my heart sank.

I quickened my pace, concern washing over me. What was she doing sitting outside like that? And why did she look so...still?

As I got closer, I could see that she was passed out, her body limp and lifeless. I felt a surge of fear and anxiety, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

I rushed up the path, my feet pounding the pavement, and knelt down beside her, my heart racing with worry. I gently slapped her cheeks, trying to rouse her. "Mom, wake up! What sort of behavior is this?"

Her head lolled to one side, and she groggily opened her eyes. She looked up at me, confused, and I could see the alcohol haze clouding her gaze.

"Why are you hitting me?" she slurred, her voice barely audible.

Relief washed over me. What kind of stress does she like to get me in? I was going to get a heart attack, "I'm not, get up"

"Maeve, is that you?", I saw her try to make out my face in the dark.

I nodded, trying my best to lift her by the arm, but to no avail, "Yes, Mom, it's me. What are you doing out here?"

She looked around, disoriented, before focusing on me again. "I...I was waiting for you," she mumbled, her words trailing off.

I helped her up, supporting her weight as she stumbled. "Let's... get you... inside, okay?", I struggled to drag her. Gosh.

I slumped her onto the couch, before I hit the ground trying to catch a breath. I looked over to my mother and there she was. Passed out again.

I'm too tired for this.

__________

I woke up with a start, my hair a tangled mess, as a sharp pain shot through my backside.

I sat up straight already frustrated so early in the morning, "Mom, let me take a break!", I kicks around in my blankets tired of her waking her up in different unsatisfying ways in the morning.

"What?", I ask irritated feeling like I already wanted to cry, "I cleaned the house and prepared your hangover soup last night. I put you to bed, there are no take out containers everywhere. What else is there? Why are you never satisfied?!", my voice got louder as my irritation became more visible.

My mothers face contorted to horror from the tone I used and slapped me in the arm, "Who taught you to speak to your mother like that? Does that mean if you did everything I'll let you just sleep in till the sunset, huh?"

"Okay," I seethed, my anger simmering just below the surface, as
I groaned, rubbing my sore spot, "What do you want?"

I was so tired of being her personal servant, her errand girl, her freaking emotional punching bag.

"I need my coffee and cigarettes. And don't even think about getting the cheap stuff"

I threw off the covers, my frustration boiling over. I was so done with this toxic cycle, with being trapped in this never-ending cycle of taking care of her needs while neglecting my own.

"I'll go get the coffee and cigarettes", I forced my feet into my shoes, my movements stiff with resentment. The laces seemed to be tangled and knotted, refusing to cooperate as I tried to tie them. I tugged and pulled, my fingers trembling with frustration. Finally, I managed to secure a sloppy bow, the ends dangling loose.

I stood up, my shoes feeling like heavy weights on my feet, as I stomped out of the room, the soles scuffling against the floor.

__________

"Brielle!" I called out, my voice carrying across the park. Her head swiveled, a bright smile spreading across her face as she recognized my voice.
She sat on the bench where we hung out last time we met, her laptop open in front of her. Her grey eyes sparkled like diamonds as she sprang up, her long legs carrying her towards me with an effortless grace.

"You have no idea how much I missed you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. "I don't like how you don't have a phone. How am I supposed to talk to you all day?", She pulled back, "I had really great news for you since two days ago, but you weren't at school so dad couldn't convey the message. Do you know how excited I was to tell you this?"

"Sorry," I shrugged, feeling a twinge of guilt, "What do you have to tell me?", I got curious.

Brielle's expression softened, her voice filled with empathy. "I have amazing news! Your art account has gained some serious recognition since you last checked! I've been keeping track, and... drumroll please...you've hit your first 1,000 followers!"

My jaw dropped as she showed me the screen, my eyes scanning the numbers in disbelief. "Wait, really?!" I squealed, my heart racing with excitement.

Brielle grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with a secret. "That's not all, Maeve. Just wait till you see this..." She scrolled through the screen, her fingers flying across the keyboard, before turning it back to me with a flourish.

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