CHOSEN (ON HOLD)

CHAPTER 22

Adam's P.O.V

       I sat in the middle of Mom's room. A room that was filled with life. The pictures that used to be on her bedstand table which were filled with her smiling face, the big rose vase that used to be by her window, the huge curtain she never opened and the bottle jar of pen and pencils.

As a little boy, I would run into her room every morning to shout "Wakie!". It was a game we both played. Anyone that woke up first would go into the other's room and shout " Wakie!". The loser's punishment was to finish two bowls of cereal. Funny right? I thought it was just a morning game. I never realized it was a way Mom made me wake up early. She succeeded.

Dad's sickness changed everything. From the way we lived happily to our communication. Dad became bitter and Mom kept growing stressed.
I began living on my toes. Always careful. Careful not to make a noise, careful not to irritate Mom, careful when talking to Dad so he won't flare up and most importantly, careful not to touch him too. I would make sure not to say the wrong things or play at the wrong time with Mom, else, she would scold me. I won't blame her. She had to take care of the family which included a bedridden man.

My happy childhood gradually became a huge dream I can't reach. Sometimes, I wonder if I lived it or it's a part of my imaginations. Thinking about it feels real but when I think about my present life, I wonder if I ever lived happy.

I looked around the now empty room. Nothing at all was left. Yeah, I did the right thing.
After Mom's Funeral, her ex coworker advised me to give away her things. She said it would help heal the pain and I took her advice. I gave away all of Mom's belongings to Charity. Mom would have wanted it this way too.

I think I've had enough reminiscing for one day. I stood up and walked over to the door. I took a final glance before locking it with every bit of memories remaining inside. As I slowly pulled the door, all the memories flooded my mind.

Through the crack of the door, just before it closed, something caught my eye. It must be something left behind by the Charity workers. I told them to pack everything.
I pushed the door back and went inside to see what it was.

A book. A thick book. I bent to pick it and then I remembered it. I remember seeing Mom with it.
As a kid, whenever I ran into her room when she was with it, she would quickly tuck it away. I thought she was putting other things away and making time for me but now, thinking about it, she was definitely hiding it from me.

Not wanting to delay further, I opened the first page. It contained old pictures. The first one was a photo of Mom, Dad and another guy; probably a friend.

The second one was of Mom and the same guy in the first picture. The way they held hands with their eyes fixed on each other instead of the camera, shows there was something more. They weren't just friends. I turned the picture to the back and on it 'Mary and Stanford' was written.
Who is this man? He can't be Mom's ex lover. Mom said Dad was her first.

Another picture, the last caught my attention. It looks familiar. It was a Castle. I quickly turned to the back to see if there was a caption for it and i saw 'HOME'.