The 79th Year

Chapter 5: Here is my Secret.

I sat on the floor beside my mother's couch. I quickly dried any left over tears from my cheeks. I was supossed to be the strong one for her. On the way home, I wondered about how the earth became a living hell. I hated living in a world where killing people was our only option. A world where there were there was no violence. I hated feeling like the world was lited on my shoulders. It almost felt like it was up to me to save the world, and to save human kind.

But now, I was trying to save my mother. I sat next to her on the hard cement floor which froze my ass to ice. "Mom," I whisper quietely in her ear. "I'm back." I touched her shoulder and she almost jumped in sudden shock. Her head snapped in my direction, eyes big and wide. But they soon returned to, well, her normal wrinkly pale grey eyes. I smiled as it was the fastest I've seen her move in forever. I was glad, because this meant she was slightly better - or it could be that she just used every bit of her energy on a quick head turn.

"Good Morning." I giggle quietly, almost tearing up when I realized that...it really wasn't a good morning.

"hmm...Good Morning." She says, as I unzip my bag to reveal the medication that would help her.

"What's that?" She asks, glancing at the bottles filled with a variety of fluids, or pills. I took one bottle of pills and emptied it onto my hand. I picked two out and handed them to my mom. I put the rest back into the bottle. 

"It's medication. It should help you." I stated, standing up to grab water.

"Where'd you get it?" She asked. I handed the drink to her and then rested my hands on my hips, my finger tracing the blade of my knife. I bit my lip before answering.

"It doesn't matter. I just got it. And it's important that you take it if you want to survive. Take 2 every 4 hours if I'm not around to-" Then I remembered Peyton's mom. "Actually, I'll always be there when you take them. Infact, I won't let you have them within the walking distance. I'll have them."

She looked at me with a strange why-are-you-acting-weird face, but she took the pills and drank the water as I instructed. 

"There. Are you hungry? You should probably eat..." I asked, cutting an apple.

"No, thanks, love." She refused once again.

"Mother, I swear, if you don't eat this apple..." I muttered under my breath. But I spoke up so she could hear my clean and editted version of 'Fuck you, you're eating.'

"Mom. You need to eat. Like...now." I say, holding the apple in front of her face. She shook her head. I sighed, crossing my arms.

"Please eat, mom..." 

~~

After finally getting my mother to eat the damn apple, and feeling accomplished that I did, I decided I too needed some rest after the long day I've had. After double checking that my mother was asleep, I layed down on the pavement beside the couch she peacefully slept on.

I watched the door. The door that took me outside. The door that took me to the dangerous hell. The same door that I was pushed up against, and hit. And slapped. And abused. The door which I was pushed out of, and onto the hard wooden stairs. Where I was kicked, and beaten, and where I formed cuts and bruises that would decorate my young and small-frammed body. It was the worst year I've had. I've never went through something as this painful...

This hurt me physically and mentally. Eventually, the bruises went away, and the cuts scarred and faded to a lighter shade of my skin colour, but the mental image was still there. And so was the hurting.

I closed my eyes. I imagined my life without the abuse. I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't be as strong as I am today.  I wouldn't be as protective as I am today. I imagined that when I openned my eyes, I wouldn't see the wooden door, but a gate. A gate to all the answers. A gate to the peace. I imagined openning the gate, where the things that my mother would tell me about, the beautiful things, would be there. Where the PS-12 didn't exist. Where my dad...Mayson...and Mrs. Jenson were alive. Where my mother was well. And Peyton wasn't missing.

But when I openned my eyes, there was the same dusty old wooden door that has only ever given me the worst of many memories.

So instead, I turned away from the door, to face my mother. To face new beginnings, and new doors with the hinges that were properly screwed on.

I took this little excersize as a new way to look at life.

Don't let anyone from your past take over your future. You're future depends on you, and your experiances. It's your life that should be ran by you.

This would be something I would have to learn to live by. Focus on my mother, and getting her better. Focus on finding a cure.

As much as I loved the ones who passed, I needed to move on. But this also meant loosing my one and only best friend.

I'm so sorry, Peyton.