The Crooked Man (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 2

As I walked through the hospital, passing crisp white walls and linoleum floors, I could hear laughter, talking, and muffled cries coming from the other rooms. The psychiatric ward was full of noises, and I found it all unnerving. So many people. So many families. Just like mine.

As I made it to the end of the hall, I checked the familiar room plaque, purely out of habit. I had the number memorized. 136. Mom's room number. I took a deep breath, composing myself. I had to stay calm, or the nurses would make me leave. I slowly pushed open the door, and stepped inside the small, plain room.

The small, round radio sat on the bed-table, the only sound coming from the machine being the long, uninterrupted buzz of static. I quietly walked up to the silent, resting figure on the bed. Her gold and grey hair was messily spread out like a dark halo around her head. As I came up next to her, her eyes slowly, delicately, fluttered open, like she was waking from a long sleep, unknowing of where she was. Then again, with her condition, she probably didn't. I cleared my throat softly as her eyes struggled to focus on me. "Mom...It's been a while. Are you doing okay?" I just hoped that she could understand me.

She turned over slightly, her tired, aged face creasing into a smile. "...Oh, my...If it isn't little Timmy! You've certainly grown..." Her voice trailed off, and her gaze wandered to the ceiling, fixing on a small black spot in the fluorescent lights. I breathed in deeply. She knew it was me. Somewhere, deep inside of her, she knew it was me.

"...Good, you look healthy. Sorry I can't see you very much...I've been busy with work. But I took a few days off...and I moved to this great room, with furniture and everything!" I suddenly remembered the small pastry shop down the street from the apartment complex, the one my mother had loved before she fell ill. "And it's near your favorite cake shop, too!...So when you get better..." My voice started to crack. I managed to catch it before it traveled past my lips. "...We can live there together..."

My mother smiled, though the recognition that I so craved, some sign that she remembered anything about her old self, was absent. An empty smile. "My...That's wonderful...Get along with Linda, will you? All that fighting you do worries me so..." She reached out for my hand, holding onto it weakly. "Maybe I can visit you sometime?...You like apple pie, don't you? I'll make the best I know how..." She pulled her hand back to her side, rolling onto her back. "...Right, Timmy?"

She didn't know me. I couldn't deny the obvious anymore. She had forgotten me. Completely. "...Mom, I'm not Timmy...I'm your son, David! Remember?..." She remained completely oblivious to me, her eyes flitting back and forth across different points on the ceiling.

"Oh, yes, they opened a bakery the other day! It smells so wonderful! Maybe I should buy from there..." Her pointless, mumbled words frightened me. I was losing her. I stepped closer, sitting forward on the balls of my feet. I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, rubbing the fabric of the white sheets with her fingers. 

"...Mom..."

As I pulled back, my mother's eyes suddenly opened wide, and she struggled to push herself into a sitting position. She smiled at me, though I could tell she was confused. "...Oh, who would you be...? Why are you here...? She sat up straighter, her voice hardening just the slightest bit. "How did you get in? This is my room...Do you have the wrong room...?" I just stood back, my eyes wide and burning from tears, my mouth open, but silent. "...W-Who are you?! Say something, will you?!" My lips trembled in agony.

"...M-Mo..."

Suddenly, my mother flew out of bed, standing, screaming at me. "GET OUT!! I'LL HAVE YOU THROWN OUT!!" I stumbled back, almost tripping over my own feet. "Somebody!! SOMEBODY!! There's a strange man in my room!! Get rid of him, NOW!!" The door was flung open, and a blonde nurse entered the room.