The Beautiful & Damned

28 - Flashback

flashback - /ˈflaʃbak/
a sudden vivid memory of an event in the past, typically as the result of psychological trauma

"Is everything okay baby?" Gerald asked me while we were lying in his bed. His old bedroom ceiling has those yellow star stickers that glow in the dark. I've probably been staring at them in silence for a while there.

"Yeah, I'm actually much better now." I replied. "I talked to your mom."

"Yeah?" He wasn't upset and I was glad about that. "You two been talking about me again?" He chuckled.
He was lying on his side and I was right there next to him, on my back, holding and playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

"Yes and no. She pretty much calmed me down, you know... almost like meditation. Then I thought about it so I called my mom when we got back." I told him.

"That's good. What did she say?"

"Well for starters, she apologized for that dinner and being a bad mother." I started.

"Nice, see; one step closer." He gave me a little smile.

"True. She also told me she suffers from a bipolar disorder. Which came as a total shock but when I think about everything that went down, it makes sense."

"What?" He had the same look on his face as me when I found out. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "Completely. I can't believe she was hiding it from me all this time. And dad."

"Well, she didn't want you to worry, naturally. But you don't just keep something like that to yourself."

"I know, I agree. I mean of course I would help as much as I could but she thought I'd put my life on hold."
I explained.

"They didn't even give you any hints?" He asked.

"No. This is why she's working from home and all that; and I was such a bitch, oh my god." I face palmed.

"Why?"

"I remember one time, I came home for the holidays, I just broke up with Taylor and she said some crap to me."

"Yeah?" He turned towards me, scooting closer.

"I asked her if she's mentally ill or is she just pretending." I sighed. "Then I slammed my door in her face. Jesus."

"There's nothing you can do about it now; you didn't know." He put his hand on my shoulder. "As long as she told you, you can talk to her about it, work things out; you know, talking and compromising, not yelling and rolling on the floor, screaming."

I chuckled. "I know. I told her to come down as soon as she can, with or without dad. Preferably with, of course." I said.

"Want me to call your dad?" He offered.

"That's very nice of you, but I got it. I do want you to be here with me... you know, when they visit."

"Of course, how about we make dinner for them? That way you can talk without anyone else around eavesdropping." He suggested.