Lost Cause (Tyler Carter)

Chapter 39

I lied on the couch, watching TV, waiting for my mom to come home. I hope she isn't disappointed in me for wanting to move. She probably thinks I'm just running from my problems, which, I probably am.

She finally got home. She came into the living room.

"Hey, mom." I said.

"Hey, T," She said. "did you make up your mind about school?"

"Yes, I did." I said "I want to move."

"Well, it's your choice." She sighed.

"You don't want me to, do you?"

"I just want you to be happy." She said. "If that will make you happy, I do want you to."

I slightly smiled. "Thank you, mom." I said.

She turned and walked towards her room.

"Oh, and mom?" I called after her.

She turned back and looked at me. "Yes?"

"I love you." I said.

She smiled. "I love you too, son."

—

I quickly sat up in my bed. My phone was sitting on my bedside table, ringing. Was I asleep? I rubbed my eyes and grabbed my phone.

Dad.

I answered.

"What could you possibly want?" I asked.

Don't hang up. Listen to me.

"Listening."

I'm sorry, Derek. I've been drinking, a lot. I was drunk the night everything happened. I'm not that kind of per-

I cut him off. "Fuck you, dad. Fuck you!"

I hung up and set my phone down.

The anger was building inside of me by the second. Suddenly, it was all I could feel. My heart was racing and my breathing got heavier. I dropped my head in my hands and tried to calm myself down, but my breathing only got faster and heavier. I couldn't hold it in for another second.

I went on an utter rampage. I couldn't think straight. I started with my phone, I picked it up and threw it across the room.

I began yelling and screaming. I was cursing God and blaming him for everything. For what my dad did and for Rachel dying. I broke things, I punched my walls, and by this point, I was out of control. I couldn't stop myself.

All of a sudden, my bedroom door swung open, and there stood my mom.

"Tyler!" She screeched. "What in the fuck are you doing?"

My legs could no longer hold my weight, and I fell to my knees. I could hardly breathe, my chest burned, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

My mom hesitantly approached me, and kneeled down next to me. "Are you okay, Tyler?" She asked, frantically.

"N-" I choked on my words and coughed. "No, mom," I said, sobbing. "I'm not."

With one hand, she grabbed my right shoulder, and with the other, she placed my head to the crook of her neck. She held me, on the floor, and let me cry on her.

"I'm so sorry, son." She said, beginning to cry herself. "I wish there was something I could do. I hate that you're in pain."

"This can't be happening, right now. She can't be gone, mom. She just can't." I sobbed.

"I know, Tyler." She said. 

Within minutes, I was right where I started. I was refusing to believe it. I was hoping, with every ounce of my being, that I would wake up, and this would have all just been a dream. I would wake up, and she would be next to me. She would be safe and everything would be okay, again.

"She was pregnant." I said. "I was supposed to be—a father."

She didn't have much of a reaction. She just continued to hold me and let me cry.