My Messed Up Past

A troubling day

I gripped my dad's hand tighter as we approached the police building. Dad had promised we would never come back here, but we had to do it for my mum. She had escaped, and no one was safe.
Going to fast? Sorry, let me explain...

My name is Lola, and I go to school at Oakwood High, a pretty decent school.

My best friend was Evie, my other half. We've been best friends since she gave me a cookie in nursery.

I used to have lots of friends and fit in with the crowd, but then all the stuff with mum happened... it all went downhill. I doubt Evie even remembers me anymore.

My mum used to be amazing-- she was the mum that would give you cookies and milk when you got good grades, and would take you to the movies on your birthday. We were best friends, thick as thieves. I always thought I would be the one that ruined our closeness, drifting away, spending less time with her and more with my friends.

So imagine my surprise when it was mum who started avoiding me, making excuses and spending lots of time away from home.

Apparently dad didn't know anything about her activities either. He thought she was with me or shopping, which is the exact opposite of what she was doing.

My dad and I lived unaware for about three months, but then we discovered when mum's 'friend' visited our house one night. Mum greeted her and ignored our questions, straight up leaving us.

When she came back, many hours gone by, she pretended nothing had happened, and that's when dad knew something was up.

Turns out mum was crazy. I'm not talking about paranoia or anything like that: I'm saying schizophrenia. When mum's parents died, she went into depression, which triggered the mental illness. She then fell into the wrong crowd, without us knowing.

All of this happened when I was eleven.

Now I'm fifteen, and I'm still dealing with consequences of having an insane mum.

Present day

"Dad?" I asked nervously, pulling on my jumper.

It was late on a Thursday night, and my dad had collected me early from athletics, much to coach's disappointment.

Dad looked back, not slowing. "What, Lola?"

"Where do you think she is?"

Dad sighed bitterly. "We will find her, wherever she is."

I nodded, looking ahead to the reception office. I recognised the lady sat behind the counter, Becky. She was always nice to me when we had to come in the early months of mum's treatment to answer questions.

"Hi Rick, Lola. Please, go straight to the question room."

We both nodded and hurried on. Dad gingerly knocked on the door of the question room, pushing open when a voice told him to.

Inside, seated at the long, oval table, was my mum's docter, Docter Leon and three guards from the hospital. There was also a scared looking police man, looking oddly out of placed in his florescent hi-vis jacket.

They all looked up and Docter Leon smiled and pulled out seats for us.

"I'm glad you could make it."

Dad nodded, sitting down. I hastily plopped down next to him and focused on the adults.

"I understand this will be a difficult time for you. My condolences."

I thought that was a wierd thing to say-- it wasn't like mum was dead.

"Know that if this is too hard for you, you don't have to answer these questions."

Despite her words, Docter Leon looked like she thought the exact opposite.

One of the guards leant forward, an expression on his face that told us he meant business.

"I need you to tell me everything your mum said to you in your last visit with her." He looked directly at me.

I gulped.

"It was a week ago, on Monday. I told her about school, that my birthday was coming up, how all my friends were doing."

I remember it cleary-- it didn't stand out as any different then all the rest. She doesn't bother to speak to me: I doubt she listens to me. In the beginning she made a small effort, but by now she's given up.

"She hardly ever speaks to me. I can't tell you any information about where she could be because I don't know."

Docter Leon flashed me a small smile that said 'well done' while the guard sat back, unsatisfied. He turned to dad.

"What about you? Did she say anything to you on your last visit?"

Dad nodded, not looking at me.

"She did, actually. I thought it was strange, but then again, everything she did and said was strange so I thought nothing of it."

This spiked my curiosity but also hurt me-- mum spoke to dad and he didn't tell me. Whenever either of us gets through to her we usually celebrate, so the fact he didn't even tell me stung. Although, I couldn't help but wonder what she said to him.

"She didn't say anything to me when I was talking to her," dad continued, "but when I was leaving she suddenly said "I'm doing this for her". That was all she said. I don't think she meant for me to hear."

My heart raced. 'I'm doing this for her'? What was that supposed to mean? Who did she mean?

The guard nodded, gesturing for his colleague to write it down.

"And that's the only thing she said?"

"Yup."

Docter Leon frowned, shuffling closer to us.

"That's weird, she said the same type of thing to me."

All eyes turned to her.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" The guard asked rudely. He wasn't very pleasant.

Docter Leon flushed and opened her mouth. "Before she escaped, she would say stuff like "She used to love this" or "I wonder what she's doing now". It was strange, but because she suffers from schizophrenia I assumed it was a hullicination she was talking to or talking about."

The guards wrote it down, and the police officer quickly spoke into a recorder.

"So she mentions a girl a lot, doesn't she?" The police officer observed, peering at me. "I think she meant you-- you are her daughter, so she loves you."

I squirmed uneasily. As much as people remind me that mum can't help that she is mentally ill, I can't forgive her that easily for all the crimes she commited. After all, she was the one doing it. So the thought of her loving makes me feel strange. I didn't look at anybody.

An akward silence filled the room.

Docter Leon eventually cleared her throat and smiled at dad and I. "Thank you for coming, you gave us some valuable information. I will inform you if we discover something."

We smiled, said goodbye and left. The whole thing took around an hour.

In the car, dad sighed and looked at me with a look of pure sadness in his eyes that I haven't seen in a long time.

"I'm so sorry, Lola. You do not deserve this, not at all. Neither do I. But I am so proud of you, for battling on with your life. And remember, your mum still loves you. Don't forget that. Just because she's ill doesn't mean she's forgotten who she is."

Yes, it does, I thought angrily. How did everyone forgive her so easily? She has literally-- no, no, I shouldn't think like that.

I smiled as dad kissed me on my forehead and pulled me in for a hug.

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