relapse (remington leith)

violet

violet (dark purple) - associates with the feeling of gloom.
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My mom was laying on the couch as usual, wrapped in the same blanket she had worn for years, it was supposed to be a purple-lavender shade, but it had faded to grey. Much like she did.
She hardly ever moved, or spoke to me anymore and when she did, it was to tell me she was going to the bar.

I don't know how it got like this. My dad passed away when I was a baby, and after time we got along without him, but in these past few years she started fading. Maybe the hurt was finally catching up with her.

Her dark black hair like mine, was greying, like her skin. Her green eyes-like mine were pale.
Like they were glazed over. She looked 10 years older than she was.
I remember sitting with her in the park, eating cupcakes. She was so full of life, so beautiful, so loving.

"What kind of cupcake do you want, dear?"
"I want the purple one please!"
"Purple it is. my favourite colour."
"Me too! Look ducks!" I called out
"Those are geese Diana-bear, but close enough." Her laugh was so pretty and I could never get it out of my head. She always called me Diana-bear
"They're gonna eat our cupcakes mommy! They'll peck my feet off."
"They can't hurt you if you aren't scared.
Just leave them." She spoke with a smile
"Scary ducks." I said
She laughed her beautiful laugh.

I don't think I've seen her laugh in at least four years.

She started taking prescription medications, and those took her life and personality away.
She had an addiction. She probably wouldn't even care if I left, I was just a burden to her now.
The only time I saw personality was when her new boyfriend Jones came around, but maybe that's because he was always getting her drunk.
And not to mention his son, my almost step brother Jack who was a year or so older than me.

Jones treated me like shit, he had hit me, called me names and even flirted with me on more than one occasion. Jack consistently tried to seduce me and 'get in my pants' especially when he was drunk, and a lot more forceful, I just ignored him.
Jones constantly blamed me for my mother's illness. Saying I caused the pain she needed to subside with medication.
I started to believe it. I tried to help her, I wanted her to get better but she refused, and would get angry, claiming there was nothing wrong.
But in the words she spoke, I knew something was wrong. She sounded like an off-tune broken record.
Monotone, glazed with no emotion.

I'd tried for so many goddamn years to help her, I did everything in my power, but she never seemed to get much better. I failed her.

I came into the living room to see Jones standing in front of the TV, my mom was shooing him to move.
"Fuck you." Jones mumbled to her.
"Leave her alone, Jones." I spoke calmly, walking by. I heard Jack laugh.
"What did you just say to me?" Jones called, following me.
"Leave her alone." I repeated myself with no expression, not looking at him. I filled up water in a glass.
My mother walked in a few seconds after Jones followed me. She got herself a box of crackers.
"Don't you ever tell me what to do." His voice rumbled, his hair was greasy.
I rolled my eyes. He thought he was such tough shit.
He stepped closer to me, and knocked the glass out of my hand, it fell to the floor and shattered.
Water splashed.
I went to begin cleaning it up, but he grabbed the collar of my shirt and held the fabric tightly.
"I do what I want." He growled.
"That's my mother you're talking to, all I said was leave her alone." I spoke calmly, trying my best not to show the fear that was ripping at my skin from the inside out.