PULSE [H.S]

074

Your genetics load the gun. Your lifestyle pulls the trigger. — Mehmet Oz

Life has been good recently.

For the first time in forever, I have hope. I have hope for me, Rae, and my mom. She's been clean for over five months, which is the longest she's been clean in a very long time.

Mom's been going to meetings for addicts, she has a mentor and a support system now. She has friends that struggle like her, and she finally has people that understand what she's going through. They know how she's feeling and how to help her in a way that I never could.

She got a job as a waitress at a diner, and she makes a lot in tips. We moved into a new apartment two weeks ago, and it even has two bedrooms, so Rae and I have a room of our own now.

Mom has a light in her eyes that I haven't seen before. She smiles now, she laughs, she dances, she sings. I suddenly have the mom I've always wanted.

Rae and I started at new schools, and the school district we are in is actually good. It might actually be possible for us to go to college after all.

The whole world is different now. We have hope, hope for a future we thought was no longer possible. I turn 16 soon, and I will finally be able to start working. I can help us out and bring in another income stream.

I walk home from school, excited because we are having tacos tonight. It's Rae's favorite meal. She loves when we have all the different toppings and can all make our own tacos or nachos. It's fun, and it's even more fun watching how excited she gets.

Mom got all of the stuff yesterday. She made a little extra in tips last week and wanted to treat us. She surprised us when she came home with groceries, and she even got us some ice cream.

It's warm outside today, and I'm breaking out a sweat on my way home. I don't mind, though. The sun feels nice on my skin. The world doesn't feel so dark anymore.

When I get home, I see my mom's car in the parking lot. She must have gotten off of work early today. I didn't think she'd be home for another two hours. Maybe she can pick up Rae so I don't have to walk and get her.

I can't wait to learn how to drive soon.

I close the door behind me, switching the lock over. I kick my shoes off and drop my book bag by the front door. It's hot in here, I'm not sure why the AC unit isn't on.

"Mom?" I call out.

I turn the AC on, putting it on low in case it's off, because Mom is trying to keep our electric bill low this month. I close the blinds to the living room, blocking the heat of the blaring sun.

I call out again, "Mom? Are you home?"

I use the bathroom, washing my face to get the sweat and saltiness off of it. I throw my hair up, pushing my hair out of my face. I really need a haircut.

When I go into the kitchen, I see Mom's purse and keys on the kitchen table. She must be home, then. Maybe she wanted to take a nap before we got back.

I head into the hallway, making my way towards her room.

I stop.

Time stops.

My world stops.

The sight of an arm on the ground within her room freezes me in place. I see her hand, fingers relaxed in a loose fist, laying against the brown carpet.