Slowly, strongly, the woman breathes in the sweet smell of the lily of the valley. She opens her eyes and takes a look at the wonderful flower. It's painted a bright shade of white. Memories of her and her son arise into her view of the little backyard garden. Donny's skipping and running as he holds his hand out to touch every flower he passes. Giggles take place of what should be yelling. Because without realizing it himself, he had been ruining the flowers as he went by, grasping a handful of the rooted beauty. Irine caught up behind him, the goal being to catch her son in her arms for a hug. The better way to stop him, rather than getting mad. The memory ends and Donny's figure fades away. She takes a look around the garden and breathes in the aroma of her flowers. It was pure and clear. A symbol of what she dreams her mind to be.
***
Donny's journal entry number 1:
April 29, 2003
The doctor suggested it is time for my mother to go to Heritage Oaks Hospital Outpatient Center, a mental institute here in California. Though I really don't want this to happen. She has a rather rare case of Nosocomephobia, where she is afraid of only asylums. So if the doctor puts her in one it will make her go insane for sure. All I want is for my mother to be alright. And after arguing with her doctors yesterday, I persuaded them to keep her in her own home. So yes, she does have Alzheimer's disease. Yes, I should tell her about all of it. I do feel bad that I'm keeping this from her. Then again I've only been told she has this disease last month (even though the symptoms have been noticeable for over a year). Maybe I'll tell her in a few weeks. The reason I'm not, is because I feel like it's pointless. She'll forget either way, right? So, I mean really things are fine the way they are. Yeah... she's fine. And if I tell her it will probably put stress onto her simple, lonely life. I won't do that.
***
YOU ARE READING
Nosocomephobia
Misteri / Thriller"The sound of sirens muzzled, and the scent in the air was similar to a doctor's office. Irene was getting a headache from the bumpy roads. The crunchy blue pillows were no big help to that either. She wanted to speak, but something was disabling he...
