How I Live Now

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Day 71 (71 now)

Mom’s gone to find a wheelchair for me. While I have a moment to think about what has happened over the past week, I thought I’d write in here to get it out of my head. Mom has been here a few days, and she's been mostly kind, but yesterday she broke down, crying in front of me. It was the first time I saw her so emotional. Since her arrival, she has kept hugging me, keeps waiting on me hand and foot. Every whim, beckon and call, she is there to do it for me. And I sort of forgave her for what happened back home. See, here's the thing, she left dad. Going back a few days ago, when I gave the nurses my name, they called mom, and she got in her car and drove. She drove halfway across the country to be with me, so I can't exactly hate her right now. She came into the room, clutching her handbag, seeming awkward. I half expected dad to follow behind. He'd race through the door, arm held high, waiting to give me a beating in the hospital bed. I pictured the slow pounding footsteps, the evil as it reached my bed, struck out, and continued to murder me. However, my father never came along, never even considered calling to see how I was doing.

There was a pervasive silence, the two of us not wanting to look at each other. So, mom attempted a meager smile, approaching. I could be like dad sometimes, stubborn, and so I played that card, shutting down, withdrawing from her to escape the reality of the moment. I assumed she was here to take me home, and the hell I lived would start all over again. She placed her belongings on the chair by the bed, then tip-toed to my side, feeling for my hand on the mattress. Why do people do that? Every person who has been to visit wants to hold my hand. It's flattering, but how about no? It gets annoying after the first few times, coupled with the nurses annoying you on the hour. The first time I regarded my mother, I had noticed the faint shine on her skin, under her eyes. She'd been crying. Her eyes were red, irritated.

“I did it… I left him for you. You deserve a chance at a better life. We both do,” mom said.

Mom sniffled, but I kept up my aloof act. I didn’t want to be hurt again, and this was my way to escape the torment. Glancing around the room, I regarded the clipboard with my charts at the foot of the bed for the doctor's use. I reckoned, if I just ignored her long enough, she'd go away. I'd always been on my own in that house, and when I ran away, it felt like I was finally living.

"I'm so sorry, Kyle," Mom whispered as he plopped on the side of the bed, wrapping her arm around my neck.

I wanted to hate her, but there was this overwhelming sense of warmth that I had never experienced before. She'd come all this way to make amends, has been since she arrived. However, in truth, I've really wanted a stable adult to be there for me the past few weeks. Amy had been the closest thing to a mother figure to me, and with her in mind, I cracked and started the waterworks. I remembered what Amy said to me; how someone can't hate you at the same time when you are showing compassion. And so, I gave this thing a shot, at least letting her redeem herself.

"Why now?" I asked, glancing from the end of my bed to mom.

She'd begun to cry too, so now we were both very emotional.

“Because I was afraid. Every day I thought about packing and leaving. But actually, following through with that plan is a lot easier said than done,” mom said.

Hearing those words made me realize that she wasn’t just an idol stranger. When I recount my upbringing, mom had stepped in on several occasions where she got beat by my dad when it should have been me. Something about her eyes spoke the truth. I could see her soul. It looked peaceful like a dream was happening. Two boats, one large, one small. They were both on a lake. The larger boat created ripples as the smaller one sailed behind, following its furrow like mother swan leading its ducklings. I mellowed a little. The sun was on the horizon, signaling a new beginning. I remembered when mom would nonchalantly gaze out the kitchen window, wondering, dreaming of a better life.

“I would have done what you did a long time ago if I was strong enough,” Mom said.

"And what changed?" I asked, twisting in the bed, feeling a slight bit of pressure on my chest.

Mom sniffled, peered at me longingly in the eyes, and gave the most heartfelt speech I’ve ever heard.

“Life without you. I want to be part of that life. The one where I get to see you graduate, where you get a good job, and when you stand on that alter to marry the man of your dreams. The one where you are happy, loved, and cared for. You wanted change… that's what changed. You reminded me of the world outside the miserable life we had in Acreage."

I closed my eyes, seemingly feeling scared. Yet, there was this ache in my chest, not from the bullets Salvatore put there, but this excruciating ball of woven pain. All the torment my life had built up came crumbling down, along with the walls of my prison. I wanted the change, just like mom wanted. The dread, years of it, seeped from eyes, nose, mouth. I cried so goddamn hard that a nurse stopped by, checking that everything was okay. And after I cried for what felt like an eternity, I felt weightless. It's like I had enough room left inside me for all this joy and happiness everybody had been talking about. The shackles I'd been holding onto dissolved, and with it, I felt this freeing notion. Knowing that she was right. Maybe we could start something new. We'd make a try at it without my father. Perhaps this could be a good thing. Possibly it wasn't us that was the problem, it was my dad.

As we talked about our options, I started to feel more at ease. Mom said she'd look for a job, and we'd get a tiny house. It would be just the two of us. I sorta liked that whole thing. I wasn’t as angry at my mom either. She was trying…. and that's what counts. Mom realized she should have sought help sooner. Even if it felt scary. All it takes is thirty seconds of insane courage, and your life could be so different. You could have a better life. And all it took was thirty seconds. So, as I close this entry since mom is back with the wheelchair. I can't state this clearly enough because I'm about to leave this hospital and start my new life.

Be brave for thirty seconds… and your life could be so different.

That’s all I have to say.

Talk soon,

Kyle

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Thanks for reading. Let me know via email what you think.

Email: danny2017writing@outlook.com

I have written many adventure, drama and romance books with LGBTQI+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. 

View Website

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Please rate the story on Goodreads ahead of its release, so, I can raise the popularity of the story.

Click Here