Chapter 3

I was driving with Her in the passenger seat.  She was looking out of Her open window at the clouds surrounding the sun.  Her short, blonde curly hair was blowing lightly in the wind. Words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘elegant’ don’t do justice to what I am witnessing at this moment.

Somehow, I know we are driving to the swimming pool.

I didn’t have swimming trunks, but it didn’t matter because there was no water in the pool anyway. 

I hate swimming.

Small children holding hands, forming a circle around the pool, were staring at me. 

They all had dark, curly hair. 

They all had light brown eyes. 

They were all the same person.

But somehow, they were all different.

They seemed to be trying to tell me something with their eyes.

Welcome.

One of the children must have known I was coming, because he replaced the water with Oxycontin.  Somehow, I know which one he is. He is smiling as I looked to him.

I jump in headfirst.

As little green pills slowly engulf my body, I feel like I am drowning. But there was no panic.

No objection.

I wake up, but I do not open my eyes. 

With my fingers, I feel if there is anything in my hands. 

Nothing.

I slowly open my right eye and look down at my hands.

Nothing.

I hate my hands.

They should have been able to grab onto one of those pills and bring it back with me. 

I hate my hands.

I want to punish them, but I won’t give them the satisfaction.

I get up and grab the lighter from atop my desk.

I flick it and let the flame resonate for exactly sixty seconds.

I press the hot iron of the lighter against my right arm. 

I can feel it burn.

I release myself from the burn as my father opens my bedroom door.

Good, your up.

Yeah.

I wanted to know your plan.

Plan?

Yeah, how are you going to fix this?

I don’t know. 

Well maybe your plan for today should be going about figuring it out.

Maybe.

Well, you are definitely going to another meeting.

I don’t argue because I know he has me by the balls. I haven’t seen my mother since I got home.

And she can’t know the aspirin incident.  If she did know, I would not be able to look her in the face.

That is the most important thing in my life.

She can’t know.

Ok, I’ll go.

Well come have breakfast with your mother before she goes to work.

I follow my father upstairs.

My mother is at the table, looking down at an untouched plate of bacon and eggs.

I sit down to her right.

Good morning, Mom.           

She turns to her right, and looks at me.

Her open palm came too fast. 

I couldn’t avoid it.

Silence.

She stands up and puts on her jacket as if nothing had happened.

There is a single tear running down her cheek.

As she walks out, I stare down at her untouched plate of bacon and eggs, which were as cold as she was.

I need to fix this.