Devil's Eye

Chapter 26

5' 3"

Ethan was staring at the tribune and ran his hand over his hair. His mouth was dry. Thomson was trying to breathe slowly, however, his heart was pounding, demanding more and more oxygen, so that his breaths became fast and short. Ethan's whole body was slightly shaking, so he felt like the whole church was vibrating. That's why he was sweating, feeling nauseous, even though he was trying to abstract his mind from his anxiety. Thomson came here to tell the truth, which he hadn't had the guts to even think about out loud. Nothing could stop him now.

"There was one episode that happened in my childhood, which will remain unspoken, since it doesn't matter today," Ethan forced himself to begin, being on the verge of taking his mask off, which made it hard to breathe. "I'm just going to highlight the fact that recovering was long and painful. The main person who was helping me during that time was my mother. She invested a lot of time and effort in me. So, when people from my surroundings and I felt like everything was over; when I finally felt like life was easy and nice again, my mother was diagnosed with fourth-stage cancer. Metastases spread through her whole body. Several tumors were inoperable. Doctors didn't even try suggesting any options to help my mother feel better. Instead, they announced how much time she had left. Three to four months, that was what they said. Three to four months of pain and grief. And years and years of isolation and rebellion after."

Ethan let himself raise his eyes to look at the audience. People were listening to him attentively. Thomson was deliberately ignoring the part of the room where Noah was sitting. People who were in the church besides Morgan were too used to hearing about death, despair and amorality. None of them could be surprised by the facts that they had gone through themselves, partly or fully. Probably that was why Ethan attended these meetings of anonymous drug addicts. Not really because they prevented him from slipping, but because he needed to see that he wasn't the only person who was disgusted by his own actions. It was somehow encouraging. Every person was trying to fix his life and move on. Which meant that Ethan was also capable of it. So now all these people acted like Thomson's silent support, encouraging him to continue telling this unpleasant truth. If Ethan was alone with Noah, he wouldn't find power to tell him everything in every single detail. Thomson would probably try to make Morgan feel sorry for him; he would easily persuade him that it hadn't been Ethan's fault. Though it was pointless to lie to people sitting in the church. They definitely knew verbal gymnastics that people used in order to hide their own shit.

"My mother's soon decease was definitely a blow for everyone in our family. However, it was only my mentality that was put back together by my mother's careful hands. It was no surprise that this news broke my mom's efforts into small pieces, rolling me all the way back to the condition even worse than the one I had before the incident I had spoken about earlier. Personally, I thought it was over. I was wrong. It turned out that the only person who was handling everything was my mother. However, I... I was like a parasite, taking everything she gave me and never returning anything back. How much I could've done! How much I should've done... But I haven't. Instead, I turned her last years into hell, since I was sure I could make it up for her later. Now, the only thing I can do for her is plant some flowers on her grave. Not so much of a payback, huh?" Ethan laughed nervously. "However, it's not what we're talking about right now," Thomson started tapping his index left finger onto the tribune, trying to gather his strength back to continue talking. He didn't want to recall these memories at all. Though silent pictures from the past would always swirl in his head until the silent hysteria hit him again.

"This tragedy, together with my puberty and old trauma, made me find peace, or better say, a short distraction. Luckily, my friends knew what to offer. At first, there were cigarettes. Then there was alcohol. I was still in high school, and soon it was completely normal to show up at school wasted. I used to smoke several packs of cigarettes per day. Later, I became so arrogant that I started smoking in my own room. My father didn't have time to pay attention to what was going on with me, so I guess he wouldn't even notice the smell even if I was smoking right in front of him. I got tired of nicotine and alcohol. The impact was too low and too short, which made me find alternative ways of seeking oblivion. That was when I found the brave new world of drugs. [This phrase hints at 'Brave New World' by Aldous Huxley. Spoiler alert: there was nothing brave about that world, nor was about Ehtan's situation. :)] At first, I tried ecstasy. Then there was LSD. Then I tried methamphetamine. I didn't even notice when I got addicted to hard drugs. At the same time, I continued playing my role of the perfect son. My mom was still breathing. My father arranged a separate room for her, hired a nurse, took time out at work and was spending all the time with his wife. I also visited her room often. Though my sister was trying to stay away from that room. She was crying constantly. I saw that, while my mother and father, who almost never left the room, didn't see that at all. Probably, that was why I told everyone at school, whenever they found my drugs, that these drugs were my sister's, not mine. I was losing my humanity. I acted like a complete jerk. My mind, clouded because of drugs, decided that nobody would find out I had been lying. My sister used to go to the same school as I did. She had already graduated by that time, but still many people knew and remembered her. The rumors spread immediately. Our school principal notified my father. He thought I was telling the truth since I still maintained my grades somehow. Teachers turned a blind eye to my actions; they thought it was because of my mother's disease. The father was smarter than the principal. After speaking with my sister, he understood that the drugs were mine. Then some stupid show began. My father would block my credit cards. I would steal stuff from home. My father would lock me up in my room. I would get out from the window in my room. Once, after trying to escape again, I fell out of the window and broke my wrist, which didn't keep me from running to the nearest drugdealer and taking something quite strong. My father would place me under surveillance. It didn't help, either. These episodes would repeat constantly. My father would try to help, and I would ruin everything. I thought the whole world was against me. Only drugs could soothe the pain. My father didn't have the power to deal with me. On one side, he had an underage son who was a drug addict; on the other – he had a wife who was on the verge of death. Now, when I think about it, I become horrified at how much shit my father had to handle. You probably wonder, 'Why didn't he send me to rehab?' Because of my mother. He didn't want to tell her I was addicted. If I decided to go to rehab, she would definitely notice my absence since I stopped by her room every day. I promised my father that I wouldn't do drugs again. At least, not before seeing my mom. However... I remember almost nothing about the last month of her life. I was always high. And I made her find out about my addiction after trying to steal her medication. How? Why? For what? I have only some vague pictures in my head where my father ran into my room, grabbed my shoulders and yelled, 'What have you done?! She doesn't have much time left! Why did you do this to her?!'