The next morning, my mother seemed to completely forget the fact that she cried the entire night.
She smiled widely at me, holding a tray full of food. The smell of bacon made me want to puke.
"Here," she said, setting down the tray in front of me.
My eyes flitted down to the assortment of food on it.
"I don't want it," I spoke, my voice unrecognizable even to me. It was hoarse, from hours of silent crying.
Her smile faded slightly, but quickly brightened up once again.
I turned away, the sugary sweet niceness too much for me to handle.
"I know," she said.
What did she know about? I wondered. She knew nothing. Nothing.
"It's his marriage today, isn't it?" she said.
Silence followed her extremely cruel, yet true statement.
Didn't she know how much that statement meant to me?
I doubted it. She was never close to me to find out how much he meant to me.
"I really don't want to talk. Please leave me alone for a while," I said, rubbing my eyes wearily.
Not waiting for a reply, I walked away from her before stopping for a second.
"Don't worry, I won't be back for a while. You can invite your 'buddy' over and I won't be there to stop you. And besides, I'm pretty sure Daddy dearest won't mind as well," I said finally, opening the front door and slamming it.
I could hear her wailing all the way from the street, but I ignored her once again.
I didn't know where I was going. I followed no specific path. But at the end of my walk, I stood right in front of the drugstore I got my anti-depressants from. The last time I entered this store was three years ago.
Yes. This was it. This was what I needed to be sane once again.
I entered the store, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.
This was what I wanted, right? Then why was my heart racing like I was doing something wrong?
I could do this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mother stood in front of me, fussing over my tuxedo.
I slapped her hand away.
"Don't," I snapped at her.
She flinched slightly with hurt, but quickly covered it with a fake smile.
"Come on, sweetie," she cooed. "Don't be like that."
I wanted to break something because of her voice.
"Don't call me sweetie. You lost that privilege the day you just watched as your husband arranged this marriage, even though you know I didn't want it," I said, the raw emotions in my voice clear.
"But-" she started.
"No. Just don't. I'm done with this," I said, storming away.
"Come back here right now!" she screamed.
I ignored her and walked out of the house.
I had to be with Sophia. I had to.
Soon, I reached her house. I hurriedly walked in, not wanting to waste a single moment.
Her excuse of a mother was seated on the loveseat, her cold, lifeless eyes staring at the television, although there was nothing playing.
"Where's Sophia?" I asked her.
Her eyes flitted to mine in surprise like she hadn't even noticed I was there.
"Haven't you heard? She's dead. Overdosed on pills."
No. I was too late.
