Unpredictable | Luke Hemmings & Calum Hood. (Cake/5SOS)

Chapter 35

It's been two hours. Two hours since I've found my mother almost lifeless lying in her bed. She was fighting, barely breathing, when I called the ambulance. I had screamed out for help while holding her in my arms, begging for her not to go. She couldn't just leave. I sat there holding her in my arms, praying she'd just wake up, praying this was some cruel joke she decided to play on me for being who I am, but as the medical nurses took her from my hold, placed her on the stretcher and rushed her out, it then finally hit me how serious the situation actually was.

She was dying. She was in her bed on the verge of death, fighting her last breath and if I hadn't come home, she would've died. She would've died hating me. I wouldn't have gotten to say goodbye. I wouldn't have a mother at this very moment right now.

When I got to the hospital two hours ago shortly after my mom's arrival, I had demanded to see her. I yelled at the poor lady at the front desk who didn't look a day over 25. She probably thought I was insane, but I just needed to know she was ok.

She told me they brought my mother into the intensive care unit. She told me to wait in this dumb ass waiting room till further instruction or information came in to her.

Well, it's been two hours. Two fucking hours and I have no clue if my mom is living and breathing on this earth, and the thought of her not living, despite all the hatred she may harbor for me, makes me want to go insane.

Maybe I am going insane. They say insanity's common for distraught teenagers and I feel nothing but distraught lately.

"Calum Hood," a young male wearing blue scrubs with a clipboard in hand called from the end of the long empty waiting room.

The waiting room was overtaken by silence and emptiness. The only action that had happened was some lady going crazy, bursting through the doors saying her water broke. The sight was hysterical, but with everything going in the last couple of hours, I couldn't even muster a smile.

Everything is weighing down on me. The reality of this situation is hitting me completely. Pushing Luke to the back of mind for now, I know my mother deserves my full attention.

Why would she try to kill herself? Why? Did she really hate the thought of having a gay son that much that she'd end her own precious life? She'd end 33 years of life within seconds because of her hatred for my sexual orientation? None of my thoughts made sense, but they did make sense at the same time.

She couldn't stand my father being gay. I remember clearly that when he left, she couldn't function. It was like it cut her off her high pedestal she was sitting on looking down at us from. Knowing her only son was gay, just like her husband for the last 15 years was. She'd known all along. I know she did. She's just been pushing the fact to the back of her mind as I do with my every day problems. But this, she couldn't handle it. She probably couldn't stomach the thought, and I couldn't stomach the thought of making her feel that way and then leaving. I left that night. I didn't even check on her when she went up to her room, angry after I saw her scene in the living room. I didn't bother. I caused this, I'm the reason she wanted to end her life, and I can't help the sadness that begins to overtake me as I walk to who I assume is the doctor.

"Are you Calum Hood?" he asks and I nod as he tells me to follow him and leads the way down a hallway.

Some of the doors are opened, some are closed. Patience are being treated, talked to, and some are even sleeping peacefully in their beds with the monitors beside them, beeping slowly, signaling the life still present in them.

We pass room after room till we get to the middle of the hall to room 108. The doctor opens the door slowly and I'm greeted by a small white room with four white blank walls. A nurse is coming out the bathroom, wiping her hands on her uniform as another is playing with a machine. Following the gray cords, I'm met with my mother in a bed, lying down there. Before I can walk up to her to examine the motionless woman further, the doctor pulls me back, telling me to take the seat on the far off corner.