Laced • Luke Dunphy

Prologue

TW - mention of death/suicide

My alarm tore through the Sunday morning air, bringing me out of a peaceful sleep. I groaned and slapped it off before sliding into my slippers. Heading downstairs, I grabbed my brand-new mug off the coffee table.

The house was unusually silent this morning. My mother would always say some snippy remark when she'd hear me trod on the old floorboards. "You're up early!" She had called one morning after a particularly sleepless night when I had opened my bedroom door.

But not today.

I walked into the kitchen, absentmindedly picking lint off my pajama pants. My bare feet pattered softly on the kitchen tiles and I opened the fridge to contemplate my options.

After considerate thought, I ended up with milk and cereal, so I took out the milk and put it on the kitchen counter. Turning towards a cupboard, I picked the Cap'n Crunch box out of an array of various cereals and placed it next to the milk.

"Ma?" I called, starting to get worried as I poured cereal into a bowl I'd just gotten out. She's always awake before me. Maybe she just had a hard day at work.

I shrugged off a bad feeling that had crept up on me and went over to the TV, turning it on and making myself comfortable on the couch.

I ate my breakfast silently, making sure the volume wasn't too high so I could hear if my mother came out of her room.

9:00. My eyebrows knit together as I saw the time on the TV. She's always up at least before 8:00. Maybe she's sick.

"Ok, ma, I'm comin' up," I sighed when I finished my cereal and placed the bowl on the kitchen counter as I walked past it.

I obviously didn't pay much attention that morning.

Walking up the stairs, a lump rose in my throat. I didn't know what it was yet, but something was off.

"Ma?" My voice came out soft and filled the empty room as I opened the door to her bedroom. The blinds were shut and the lights were all off, but nobody was in the bed, which had been made.

My heart began to beat wildly and I could hear it in my ears, like a loud warning. Where is she?

Not bothering to close the door as I left, I ran down the stairs. And that's when I saw it. The smallest detail. I would've barely seen it had I not been looking for it.

There, on the kitchen floor, was a broken wine glass. To this day, I don't know how I had missed that detail, how my feet hadn't felt the cold wine or even a shard of glass.

I stepped around the island counter, slowly edging my way to the side that hid the floor from where I had been standing earlier, scared of what I might find.

Laying on the floor, her face cold and pale, was my mother. Her eyes were wide open, emotionless, staring into the void. One of her hands was covered in blood, probably from the wine glass. The other was firmly grasping a small orange bottle with the lid open. A few pills had fallen onto the floor, the rest waiting on gravity to pull them out.

I just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring into my mother's dead eyes. Slowly, I crouched down and touched her cheek. She must've been dead for a few hours now.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked over to the phone. I was bearly conscious of anything at that moment, my entire body was numb and it was as if my brain had turned off.

Without even thinking, my fingers dialed Luke's home number. I looked down at the phone in my hand, the dialing tone almost inaudible.

"Hello?" Claire's familiar voice came from the other side of the line as she picked up. She waited for a moment before saying it again, asking if anyone was there.

The next few seconds seemed to pass by in slow motion, the phone felt heavy in my trembling hand. Reluctantly, I raised it to my ear.

I'll never forget how it felt to say the next four words, the shudder that went down my back, the trembling of my weak voice.

"My mother killed herself."

•

"Hey, we're here for you," Luke said, rubbing my back consolingly. I nodded and offered him a faint smile, which he returned.

I could hear the adults whispering amongst themselves behind us. They hadn't told their kids what had happened yet. I didn't want to talk about it right now but I guess they'd find out sooner or later.

Claire and Phil had found me standing in front of her body, staring down at the orange bottle of pills. Their voices had been far away when they softly pulled me away from my house and out into the driveway.

"Honey, I'm so sorry, it's gonna be okay. I'm so sorry." Claire rambled on as we walked to their house. I remember telling her it wasn't her fault and thinking it was mine.

Phil didn't say anything. He seemed out of it, like me, but less because it wasn't his own mother he'd found dead in the kitchen that morning. He squeezed my shoulder and smiled sadly down at me, as if to say they would always be here for me. I smiled back, letting him know that I knew and was grateful for it.

When we had gotten to their house, they covered my shoulders in a blanket and Claire made me some hot tea.

"I'll call Mitch" she told Phil as he made me sit down on the couch next to the entrance hall.

"Kids, Jamie's here!" He called, the usual joy in his voice gone, replaced by hollow words.

Luke's door flung open and he clambered down the stairs excitedly, which made me smile a bit. His face fell the moment he saw me and he frowned up at his father, who just shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Luke came to sit next to me as his sisters came down, fighting about something. They went silent when they got to the bottom of the stairs, probably seeing me and Luke, sensing the atmosphere wasn't right.

They sat on my other side, hugging me, not saying anything. Claire must've called Jay and Gloria as well, because they burst through the door, Manny following closely behind them.

Gloria was unusually quiet and sombre, Manny coming up behind me and patting my head.

I felt as if I had just ruined the happiest, craziest family I'd ever met. I should've just called 911.