I sprinted towards the door, my hands shaking as I twisted the knob. My chest was heaving, my mind was finding new ways to die in excruciating pain, every second that passed felt like an hour. The way to the complaint room felt miles away, the hallway seemed stretched before me, like it was mocking me.
I finally reached the complaint room, after what felt like an eternity. The way I walked in, out of breath and disheveled at this time, obviously garnered some attention. I sat down I went straight to the topic.
“Somebody broke into my room” my voice was shaking.
“Did you see this person?” a plump man, practically oozing out of his seat, asked.
“No.” my voice was till wavering.
“Then what do you mean?” he answered, his face dead-panned, annoyance clear in his voice.
Say that one more time and I’m going to kick your teeth in.
The nerve this guy had to ask me then what do you mean? It took a great amount of self-restraint to not get up and kick this guy off his chair. I sincerely hoped that this intruder would break into his room next. But nonetheless, I explained the whole situation to him, through gritted teeth. From the moved watch, to the mousetraps, to the footsteps and then here.
“So, what now?” I asked.
“Hm. We’ll ask security to look into it. We’ll have them watch through the cameras in your hallway overnight. If we find anything, we’ll run an investigation in the morning. Save your mousetrap for that, just in case. Your name and room number?” He answered, a serious tone took over his voice. He looked at me expectantly.
“Erik Dietrich. Room 016.”
I retired to my room, exhaustion finally took over my body. My limbs felt heavy. I dragged myself through the hallway and felt the coolness of my doorknob, relief washing over me. I looked up and found a security camera not too far away from my room. They were watching. Everything will be fine. I got into my apartment and realized that I ran through that hallway and sat in the complaint room without shoes. I was too tired to be embarrassed. I flopped onto the mattress, the world turned dark.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee- click.
It was 2:40 pm. Saturday.
I heaved myself off the bed, joints cracking. It’d been 2 weeks since I last showered. I smelt like a decaying corpse. I didn’t really have a choice today. The water was even colder than the winter, but I had to take a shower. It would bother her if I didn’t.
I got out of my apartment. For some reason, being outside felt safer. I could use some company. I missed mother. I’ll get her some flowers after I’m done at the laundromat. What flowers did she like? I think she liked peonies. She loved purple peonies.
It wasn’t a luxurious place. I don’t know what I expected though. It was a laundromat, for god’s sake. The washing machine finally stopped. I pulled out my clothes, heavy and dripping. It was a good thing the laundromat was close by. I didn’t really have a car and there was no way I’d carry these clothes the whole way back. I put my clothes in the spinner, it’s sound cut through the air. it vibrated vigorously, my clothes became streaks of colors, like paint being mixed.
There was nobody else here. Except for this creepy guy. A bald, middle-aged man, who kept staring at me. I could practically feel him burn holes in my back. He was here last time too, except he was staring at another lady. This time, it’s me. Ew.
Ding!
Thank god. That somehow felt way longer than it was supposed to be.
Now, time to face the inevitable.
Greenwood hospital.
Jesse.
Mum.
I walked to the receptionist. She was busy typing something down, keys clacking loudly. She had big bags under her eyes and lipstick on her teeth.
“Name?” she sounded irritated. Her voice was pretty irritating to hear too.
“Erik Dietrich. I’m here to see a patient.”
“Relation?” she kind of sounded like her nose was stuffed.
“Son.”
“Patient na-” she sounded like a goat.
“Elizaveta Dietrich.” My head hurts.
“Room 279, 3rd floor.” She replied with a sneer and went back to her work, lips pursed. She’s probably tired.
My mother. Elizaveta Dietrich. She had beautiful, sandy blond hair and green eyes. Wait. Not entirely green. There was little specs of blue and brown in her eyes, shimmering like sapphire and gold in the sun. I can see why father loved her. But now, she’s just a shell of what she used to be. A decaying corpse with an alive soul, waiting for death to whisk her away.
She and I would bake together. Donuts, cakes, brownies, pies, you name it. Father would come home and we’d surprise him with all that we made. The kitchen would be a mess. She’d put me to bed and clean it all up. I could hear the clattering of dishes and water running whenever she left the door slightly ajar.
But then things went down. They kept going down. She’d become angry, happy, sad and afraid all at once. Her eyes pupils would be blown wide, so wide I would get scared. She’d say the strangest things.
“You’re like a little dolly малыш!”
“I want to dress you all up and lock you in the showcase forever.”
I became her little dolly. She’d hold my face in her thin hands, dress me up and then lock me in the closet. When father came home, she’d drag me out of the closet and hold me up to him.
“Look Dieter!”
I saw the panic in my father’s eyes. He’d snatch me away from her, put me on his bed and bring me all my toys: little plush chickens, bears and rabbits. Then he’d leave. He and mother would fight. The first time, he came back and asked me what happened, if mother hurt me in anyway. I didn’t know why he asked me this. Then I told him about the dress-up game. About the closet. He rushed out of the room. Their voices became louder and more aggravated. Mother would start laughing and then crying. Then she’d scream in anger. She’d retire to her room till the next day. She wouldn’t come out.
It turned into a part of our routine. The dress up game, the fights. Father left. My uncle provided for us, but we were still poor. We could barely make ends meet. I realized the truth in high school, after father left. I saw mother put a white powder on a piece of paper, roll it up and then light it and smoke it like a cigarette. Then we played the dress-up game. I became her little dolly again.
Mother was a drug addict.
I got a job in college. I’d spend my day in college, my night at work. I’d do anything to not go home. My uncle passed away a couple of months later. All my days passed at college and work, I had no time to come home. I didn’t want to come home. Then we had vacations. I began spending my days at work and coming home in the evenings. Mother… changed. We didn’t play dress-up anymore, we just argued instead. We reached a point where I became too tired to argue and she’d be the only one screaming.
“GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOUIWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU
IWANTOBREAKYOURLEGSANDSNAPYOURNECK GOKILLYOURSELFBURNINHELLIWISHICOULDKILLYOU”
she’d go on for hours. One day, while she was throwing a fit, she suddenly stopped. I went to check on her and I found her on the ground. Her eyes were glossy and her face was red.
The doctors were saying something. No, they were shouting something. They wheeled her away on a stretcher. She was so still. She was so quiet.
They said she had ventricular tachycardia. They said it was because of the drugs. They found a large amount of cocaine in her system. He explained loads of other things to me, but I didn’t understand a word. She stays in the hospital now. At the time, I was struggling to pay the bills and her hospital bill. There were times where I’d go days without food. There wasn’t enough money. There was never enough money.
But I still loved mother. I still love mother.
That realization terrifies me.
___________________________________________________________________
