ALL THAT WAS LEFT BEHIND

Strange Beginnings and Strange Endings

I broke out of the cocoon I created with my blankets to find an ocean of sunshine splashed across my bed. It spilled out of the crack of the curtain, making the room cheerful, light and warm. I smiled at the sight and pulled out a pair of my favourite dark blue jeans and long-sleeved shirt. The brightness burned my exhausted eyes, causing me to squint.

"Mom?" I called as I tumbled down the stairs that flowed right into the living room, towards where my mother lay still in her slumber.

            "It's morning. I'm going to get ready for school, okay?" I announced, shaking her body. She slowly turned over to look at me, with her hair a tangled nest on her face. I brushed away to inspect her soft face.

            "It's morning Sea." She mumbled, and turned over again, only to officially arise again in a few minuets.

            If this was just any old day last year, my mother would already be awake and bustling around the house to prepare her for work. She would have already had her dark hair gathered up into a bun, with her lips coloured and eyelashes darkened. She was a nurse at our local hospital; and a very talented one at that too. My mother had always been incredibly bright, and had a desire to spread her love far across the world. It was her lifelong dream, to be in the medical field, and was thrilled to be accepted there, along with her best friend and new neighbour, Sherry.

            However, all through my life, there were periods where she would suddenly stop attending her shifts at work, and other community social groups she was involved with. During those times, she would sink down to a deep state of depression I suppose, and even though we both live in the same house, we each felt our own world of hurt and sheer solitude. This time seemed different somehow, longer maybe. More severe perhaps? I really didn't know; I just wanted to help in some way.  Conversely any help that was thrown at her was simply brushed away by her trembling fingers. I really didn't blame her for this to be honest. What sends her to these periods of despair is enough to kill someone.

            Moments later, I was moving around the kitchen with bread toasting for the two of us, and juice poured. After a few moments of yawning and eye rubbing, along with the occasional sigh, the toasted popped up nice and crisp and begging to be buttered. Once the toast had a glistening layer of margarine, I summoned my mother to the table in the light of the morning, still pouring from the windows.

            She shuffled along, looking just like the zombie I felt, and plopped herself on of our mismatched chairs. She starred into the wall as if it contained a mysterious message for her, and was luring her into a trance of earth shattering knowledge.

            "Mom, your breakfast is in front of you." I prompted.

            She didn't move. Her eyes seemed to be fixated to the wall, blocking out everything from her. Just as I was about to speak again to point out that she needed more nourishment, she turned to me with her dark eyes ablaze with a sudden anger.

            "I know. I'm not oblivious to the world; I can see what is in front of me."

            Is that so? I wondered in my mind, where it was safe to wonder such things.

            I nodded and picked up my toast, making sure the crunch of it was audible enough to hear through the thick sound of awkward silence. The bread was gluey in my mouth, forming a sticky clump, which was rather difficult to swallow.             Eventually, I got it all down while my mother returned to her permanent dwelling on the couch. I gulped down a sugary stream of juice and got up to clear the dishes off the table. I kept my mother's plate remaining for later.