✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

32: The Bane of Monday Mornings

ARI.

Thanksgiving break had come and gone faster than I could even welcome it with open arms. The week sped by so quickly and before I knew it, I was waking up at 7:15 in the morning. The weather was finally cooling down and all I wanted to do was roll myself up in my blanket like a spicy taquito, watch movies and drink hot peppermint mocha lattes. But to my dismay, I didn't have that luxury. I got to relish in the wonders of tests, homework and essays. I did have four weeks till Christmas break however, and that was all I could think about.

Rolling out of bed, I sleepily trudged out my room and into the bathroom, scratching my left ass cheek in process. I could smell the coffee brewing downstairs and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans tingling my nostrils were slowly waking me up. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, not really surprised with the messy disarray atop my head or the purplish hue beneath my eyes. Whoever marries me, will be waking up to Frankenstein every morning.

In thirty minutes my usual morning routine was completed: shower, singing into the hair dryer or hairbrush, exposing my skin to expensive foundation and eyeliner, and lastly, changing into a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved shirt. I skipped down the steps and made my way into the kitchen, my eyes set on the coffee maker. However, as I inched forward, my peripheral vision caught a pink slipper strewn on the floor.

Odd.

But upon noticing the furry house slipper, that's when I also caught glimpse of a sight that ruined my entire Monday morning and would for sure continue to ruin the rest of the week.

"Mom!" I shrieked, dropping my messenger bag and dropping to my knees to aid my mom. She was slumped over against the kitchen island with a broken mug by her hand and puddle of warm coffee pooling around her legs. "Oh my God! Mom wake up!"

I shook her, slapping her cheeks lightly in hopes that her eyelids would flutter open and things would be okay. But things weren't okay; something was very much off.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," hastily I stood up and ran over to the house phone. My frantic behavior caused the wireless device to slip out of my fingers and crash onto the floor, its battery compartment shattering across the tiles. "Fùck!"

I bent over, picking up the pieces and with shaky hands I struggled to place the battery back into the phone. Once the cover was snapped into place, my quivering fingers dialed the three numbers that would hopefully save my mom.

"911 what's your emergency?" A woman spoke on the other end.

"It's my mom! She's passed out on the floor of my kitchen!" I wailed into the speaker, running back to my mother whose head was still limp.

"Okay ma'am did you see what happened?" the dispatcher asked.

"No I didn't. I came downstairs and she was already down. Hurry up! Please help me, I don't know what to do!" I cried. I felt my heart thumping against my chest; it was pumping on overdrive and I swear my entire chest cavity was going to explode.

"We have your location traced and we've already sent a team of medics to your home," she assured and I was surprised with the calmness of her voice. "What I need you to do right now is to check if your mother is breathing. Can you do that for me sweetie?"

"I can," I breathed, placing my hand near her nostrils and mouth. "She's breathing," I then placed two fingers on her neck, "her pulse is so slow. How long will it be till--"

The blaring sirens filled my ears and only moments later did I hear boisterous banging against the front door. Then everything started to slow down before my very eyes. The door swung open, its knob slamming against the adjacent wall with a loud bang. Several paramedics rushed into our not-so-quaint home, medical supplies in hand as I pointed them over to the kitchen where my mother was. Paramedics carried my mom onto the gurney, immediately placing a brace onto her neck and supplying her with oxygen.