Disconnect • Jarry

DISCONNECT

[this is a one shot]

💔💔💔

it felt like i was drowning. chest heaving and splutters leaving my mouth before i took one final breath and then i was enveloped into an ephemeral darkness.

"mum? are you okay?"

my eyes jolt open and i blink slowly, taking in my blurry surroundings until my eyes focus. my son crouches next to me on the couch, his hand resting on my arm and a frown resting on his face. "you fell asleep on the couch again."

"i'm fine, sweetie. just a bad dream," i lie, sending a sweet, yet forced, smile his way. he doesn't believe me, he never does when i lie to him about my wellbeing, but he understands. he's fifteen and understands more than most adults.

"i made breakfast," he grins, gesturing to the tray on the coffee table. i sit up and stretch my arms a little and then watch as brooklyn places a napkin, which is really a piece of kitchen roll, on my lap. he then sets the tray on top of it and tells me to enjoy, as he scurried off. ten seconds later, i hear the washing machine roar to life.

as i force the honey on toast down my throat and wash it down with the tea, i feel numb. i can't feel the burns that the hot drink leaves on the tip of my tongue, and can't feel the scratches of the toasted bread down my throat. i just can't feel anything.

"hey, mum, is it okay if i go out with danny and aidan today?" he asks from the kitchen doorway, running a hand through his chocolate brown hair, which leaves me with a pang of hurt in my chest. not only did he look the spitting image of his father, but he also picked up on his habits. despite the nostalgic feeling inside, i smiled nonetheless and told my boy that of course he could go out. he thanks me and kisses my cheek, before taking away the tray and migrating back to the kitchen.

"i could've done that myself, darling," i say from behind him where he washes up my plate. he just shakes his head and tells me that he doesn't mind. lightly slapping his arm with a tea towel, i tell him to go get ready to go out with his friends.

"i would say make me, but you're like two inches tall," he laughs, and i gasp, the first genuine smile on my face since two weeks ago.

it was so abrupt, how he left us. one minute we were fine, a beautiful happy family that everybody envied. and then he was gone, telling me that he didn't love me anymore and he had found somebody else. if it wasn't for brooklyn, i don't know what i would have done with myself.

i stare out of the window as i chop carrots for brooklyn's lunch, listening to the faint sound of him hum in his bedroom, probably looking for a sock he was missing or a shoe he had lost. i barely even register the sound of keys jingling and a lock being turned, however i do register the sound of glass being smashed in the living room.

my first thought is brooklyn in his room, and i had to do everything to make sure he stayed there. someone was in the house, and there was no way he was getting involved.

i swiftly grab a frying pan and hesitantly creep out from my hiding spot in the kitchen. a loud voice booms and i'm taken aback, instantly recognising it as brooklyn.

screw being hesitant.

i push the door open and raise the pan in the air, but my energy and adrenaline all rushes out of my body as i take in the scene in front of me.