Fear is Power

3

Two months later.
Phoenix's POV

I try not to think about my mother. I stopped going to the hospital last month. They are going to switch off her life support if she doesn't wake up soon. I visited the hospital earlier this week and I'm not legally an adult yet so I can't make a decision to keep her alive or not, that power goes to Malcolm. When she fell backwards she hit her head and caused severe brain damage. Even if she does wake up, she will never be the same. It doesn't matter what I've done, I'm not going to make a difference.

***

My life's been a blur since that day. I don't feel like I used to. I don't cry, I don't laugh, I don't smile. My emotions have disappeared. I feel so empty, so numb.

Sometimes Malcolm shouts, but all I see is his mouth moving and ringing in my ears. He doesn't have an effect on me anymore. He can do whatever he wants, I don't really think I have it in me to do anything about it.

I'm not hungry anymore. I stopped eating a few days ago. Malcolm doesn't seem to care. Neither do I.

I don't speak anymore. No one has seemed to notice, no one has seemed to care. I don't really have anything to say.

Malcolm doesn't come and talk to me anymore. It's like I don't exist, like I never did, like I never will. I like it that way. It's the way it should be.

I just sit in my room. On my bed. In silence. Lost in my memories. I repeat them over and over again, desperate to never forget them. To hang on to whatever beautiful moment I could remember with mother. Now look what I've done. I've ruined everything. I hate myself. It's all my fault. I wish I was never born. Maybe then mother would have finally been happy, which is all I could have ever wished for.

I can feel it, a part of me is missing. Apart of me just isn't happy anymore. Apart of me is dying with my mother.

•••

I woke with a start. I must have accidentally fallen asleep when I was thinking about mother. Malcolm had just slammed the door hard behind him and left the house. That must have jolted me awake.

As I got up slowly, my body still aching from sleep, I could tell he had been smoking. I could see the smoke from downstairs reaching for my room, along with the stench of strong alcohol from a few moments ago.

Glancing lazily around the room to observe what I was going to have to clean later, I noticed something. Malcolm has become more careless since mother had gone, therefore forgetting to lock the part of the wooden cabinet where he keeps things mother wouldn't approve of.

I had always been scolded for my curiosity when I was younger. Whenever I would question what could possibly be in that cabinet, mother and Malcolm had refused to answer. But who was here now to stop me?

I was curious. What was the secret? What was in there? What could possibly be so bad that mother made sure it was always locked despite Malcolm's arguments? I stared at the cabinet for a few minutes becoming restless, aggressively cursing at my thoughts knowing mother would be dissatisfied if she knew what was going on inside my head.

One part scolded myself for being so irresponsible and for being tempted to do something so dangerous, but the other part of me was curious. It had been a long time since I had felt something, and my body cried out for freedom, so I took my chance.

I reached for the glass bottle of alcohol and tried to keep my hands steady, but the glass was shaking in my hands. What am I doing? Why don't I care about my life anymore?

Using the bottle opener I popped the lid off and took a sip.

It was cold against my lips and tasted bitter against my tongue, but it felt good. Like I was swallowing all my problems.

I smiled, more than I had in a long time, until I couldn't stop laughing. This entire situation was hilarious! My mother almost being killed by her one true love or whatever. Oh, wasn't it so tragic. I drink some more, attempting to wallow some more in my resurfacing emotions, but I found my memory was blurry at the edges, my recalling of the event in my mind getting fuzzier, and the more I drank the less I remembered.

A.N. Trust me this gets less depressing soon..