One Month

17. scared

Scared

I make my way downstairs trying not to make too much noise and barely keeping myself awake. Had it not been for my inability to swallow properly due to lack of saliva I'd be happily asleep.

As I walk towards the kitchen while making a mental note to bring water upstairs next time I decide to smoke weed, I hear noises coming from inside the guest room where my mother should be sleeping. Curiosity gets the best of me and I begin to close up on her door. I can hear her talking  but it's highly unlikely she's talking to herself.

"I'm scared to tell her, Sam." I hear her say through the door.

Sam? As in Sam Campbell? Aaron's father?

"She'll hate me. More than she already does. I screwed up, I pushed her away. She barely speaks to me anymore." She whines and I roll my eyes at the shit that comes out of her mouth. She's talking about me.

Of all the weird and inconsistent things that she's been saying lately this one is by far the dumbest. As if she'd ever be sorry. It's hard to believe her even when sometimes a part of me wants to. One thing I do believe, she's definitely keeping something from me.

"No, I must be the one to tell her. Otherwise I'll make things worse for us." She speaks again making me more troubled than I'd hoped. Us?

What does she want to tell me? Why is she talking about it with Sam Campbell? Is this why she's been acting strange?

My head begins to feel heavy and my thoughts are too much to handle. My dry throat reminds me the reason I bothered to get out of the comfort of my bedroom and I push myself to get to the sink and fill up a glass.

As I climb up the stairs my eyes are burning and my hand holds a tight grip on the glass so it doesn't slip and fall. My body is almost as numb as it was a few hours ago when I got high as hell. At this point I can't even remember what happened since I left my room. I have the feeling it was somehow important.

I enter my room and lock the door behind me nearly empty of thought. Whatever it is, I don't care.