The Problem is Me [EDITED)

Chapter 22

November, 2014

Good days are never good, but at least they’re better than the bad ones. My god they’re better than the bad ones.

It’s been hard, so much harder than I thought it would be. I think the main factor that is bothering me is the weather, to put it simply it’s like the fucking Antarctic out there. I knew roughly where my mother lived from the visits I used to make during the holiday seasons, ‘used to’ being the key term there.

The road was long, wet and lonely. I was walking unusually slowly, almost robotic-ally; it felt like my brain was struggling to tell each foot to take the next step. It was as if I were in a stupor; like someone under hypnosis in one of those Scooby-doo cartoons.  

My clothes were soaked through to the bone, and my shoes made a squelching noise with every step I took. “Fucked it up again, didn’t you?” I muttered to myself in anger.  

I was coming to the end of the road now, and the neighbourhood was well in sight. My mom’s house was at the front of the row of houses, a semi-detached house with three bedrooms if I’m not mistaken. The combination of pure exhaustion, coldness and emptiness is a brutal one to say the least, much worse than anything I had felt before.

From what I can remember, the house was pretty much the same. They had Christmas lights decorating the outside, even though it was only November. I stood for a while and took in the appearance of the house, it looked like a home.

Not just a house, not a place to live, but a proper home.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door with three steady flicks of my wrist. For a few seconds I waited, and no one answered. But just as I was about to knock for a final time the door swung open, revealing my mother.

“…Nathan?” She stuttered in disbelief, whilst opening the door wider probably to get a better look at me.

I smiled sarcastically, but I don’t think she noticed the sarcasm in it. “The one and only.”

Neither parties spoke for a brief second after that, but this standoff between us went on for a good minute or so before she finally stepped aside wearily and let me in.

It was warm inside, and I felt myself begin to slowly defrost. It was a typical house really, quite like the one I grew up in. As you entered you came face to face with the staircase which was carpeted a cream colour, it matched the stair railing. To my left was a series of hooks holding up coats of all kinds, and sizes.

“What are you doing here?” She asked bluntly.

I turned around to face her and sniffed slightly, “I thought you’d be happy to see me.” I tilted my head to the side “I guess I thought wrong.” The tone in which I said this made it come out as more of a question, and I automatically saw her crumble before me.

“Of course I’m happy to see you. Come on, you look freezing.” Still weary and I could tell she was lying, she ushered me into the living room where I was faced with Blake sitting playing with a few toys. As much as this may surprise you, I actually found the kid adorable. It’s probably because he looked so much like me.

The living room wasn’t bad; I could see two black leather sofas and the walls were painted dark red. The carpet was same as the one in the hallway, but a large fluffy rug was taking up a lot of the space between the sofa and the TV. Blake had made himself comfy on said rug, by sitting cross legged in his batman pyjamas accompanied by a pair of fluffy Christmas socks which had the words ‘Rockin around the Christmas tree’ printed on them.

What did earn a smile from me was the huge Christmas tree which was half decorated seated in the corner of the room. The house itself was enough to put you in the Christmas spirit.