The Thing About Believing

Chapter One

The day started out normal.

I woke up at around 12:00 AM, and I laid in bed awake, staring at the ceiling.

It was 2:08 in the afternoon by the time I even looked at the clock. I looked back up at the light hanging up above me and decided, like usual, I wasn't going to get up. What was the point?

Everyday, my mom came in my room with my pills at 2:00 on the dot. She worked from home and made me take them at that time exactly, even if she was in the middle of the most important business call of her life.

Now it was 2:09. Where was she?

Just then, as if she could read my thoughts, my mom knocked softly on my door and peeked in.

I know she was disappointed when she saw me laying down. She always hoped to see me out of bed when she peeked, but she also knew it was highly unlikely.

She knows that every day when I wake up, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. But what she doesn't know is that every day is a pain for me. Another long period of time that is almost hell.

My mom gave me a small smile and walked in.

I knew something was off because she was late and because she was carrying a tray with my pills - and a meal.

Usually, I can only manage a piece of bread because I'm never hungry. On good days, my mom manages to get me to eat an apple or a banana, but that was extremely rare.

I gave her a confused look and she smiled at me again.

"Hey, Charlie. How are you, honey?" she asked me as she pulled out my desk chair and sat down, carefully placing the tray on the dusty desk.

I looked back up at the ceiling. In my peripheral view, I could see her look down at her hands as she fidgeted.

"Charlotte," she paused for a moment, "your father called." she said quietly, her voice serious. I could tell that she was upset. "He said that he wants you to spend the upcoming year with him in Seattle. He signed you up for group therapy for your..." she shook her head. My mom could never admit that I was depressed. She insisted to believe everything was okay. "They have great results, Charlie. I agreed," I could feel her searching my face for a reaction. Her hope was infinite and it killed me. "I think it will help you... being away from here." she said and continued to stare at me.

"Charlie, please talk to me. I'm really trying here," her voice cracked then, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. "You're leaving in five days, honey. You'll be gone and I won't... I won't be there with you. I won't see you for a year," she put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. "I just... I need to know that you'll be okay."

I looked at her then. I loved my mom so much.

I took her shaky hand in mine and held it tightly.

She looked up at me, tears dripping from her eyes, and gave me a genuine smile.

She held on to my hand like it was the only she needed in the world, which it probably was in that moment.

"I love you so much, Charlie. Please be happy. Please be okay." She said to me, rubbing her thumb across my palm and holding on to my hand tighter.

After what seemed a long time, I let go of her hand. She rubbed her face and looked around as if she'd lost track of time.

"Okay. I have a quick conference call at 3:00, so take your pills and please try to eat something in the meantime." she told me. She got up from the chair and gave me a sad smile before she walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.